A Quarian, a Cyborg and Her Children
by Interstellar Taco Inc
Summary: A confused, obsessed human woman is brought to a psych ward.  What is she obsessed about?  No one can decipher her ramblings, except perhaps a fascinated quarian.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Welcome! This story is cowritten by two people; one of us will, when she stops being lazy, go through this with a fine-toothed comb and edit the crap outta it. As of now it is a raw document. There are some mistakes that will be taken care of eventually.

They'd found her rummaging through spare parts and brought her here, their interest and concern piqued by her incredibly strange behavior. At first she had refused to go with them, mumbling something along the lines of "I need to finish dammit leave me alone," and they eventually had to drag her away, not exactly kicking and screaming, but definitely struggling.

They'd put her in an observation room. She paced nonstop, and they had been about to write her off as another crazy when one of the scientists noticed something peculiar in the brain scans.

"Massive OCD, that's what it is," one of them, a middle-aged asari said with finality.

"That's part of it, but look at this, this doesn't look like OCD at all, see..."

Inside the room, the woman pressed her hands to her face. She had been in no condition to fight them off earlier, but she could feel herself getting weaker now that she managed to drag her mind back to the present. She hadn't eaten in two days and she was parched; she'd been alone for much longer, feeling a great gap between other people and herself... the only thing that could keep her company was the horrid feeling in her brain, the _need _to do something _very important _and her hands were twitching, trying to create things out of thin air...

"Damn it," she called hoarsely. "Damn it, let me out, you don't understand, I gotta, I _gotta_..."

The observations continued on for a time, until the scientists did what they could to feed her. If she resisted, or ignored the food, then it was time to sedate her. For several days, things continued in this vein, until they decided to try and find out what she wanted. The woman was not exactly lucid, so several methods of communication were attempted. At some point, they gave her a simple pencil and paper; old, arcane tools that mental patients had been known to communicate with before.

Nobody knew what to make of the markings. The majority of scientists dealing with her were, after all, psychologists, but eventually someone made the connection that the drawings were mechanical in nature, so they sent off for a tech. They also delved as deeply as they could into her past, finding no record of any sort of engineering training.

They had been operating primarily with humans as far as direct contact with the woman went. They didn't want to upset her by bringing in something unfamiliar. So, they were quite disappointed to see a quarian answer their summons.

"I wasn't aware we even employed quarians," one of the scientists muttered as their guest, freshly arrived from his shuttle, looked over the drawings.

"It's just this guy, as far as I know," his companion replied. "What, you got something against quarians?"

The man shrugged. Quarians were an unpopular race. Humans had learned that almost immediately after First Contact. The alien in question raised his visored head and approached them. "I need to speak vith zis voman," he said.

His voice was heavily accented by the translator. "Zese schematics are highly detailed. You say she is untrained?"

"That's what we found."

"Zis suggests ozzervise."

There was a bit of arguing back and forth. The quarian remained calm, but insistent, and eventually they agreed to let him speak with the woman. He was accompanied by one of the human caretakers, and they had made him wear a lab coat over his enviro-suit to make him appear less intimidating.

"Miss? Someone here wants to speak to you about your drawings." The human didn't really expect a response from her, but it was worth a try. The quarian blinked his slanted eyes behind his visor.

To their surprise, she did, her countenance becoming slightly less haggard at the mention of her drawings. "Schematics!" she barked. "Told you again and again, schematics, don't you _listen, _you people never _listen_!"

She had never told them as such (other than babbling they may not have understood) but seemed to think she had.

Her gaze snapped to the quarian. "Quarian. Damn it. Always _against _what I gotta do. Never _once _do you _listen _to _common sense_!"

The quarian shook his head. "Calm down," he said sternly, as if he could by simple tone of voice, get her to do what the psychologists had been trying to for days. "I can see zese are schematics, miss. Vat are you trying to build?"

His human companion tried to resist rolling his eyes. "Sir, we've been trying to get something intelligible out of her for days."

"Zese are incredibly complex. Zhey seem to suggest somesing large. Somesing mobile. Am I correct?"

The human scowled. How on earth the quarian had gotten that from simple drawings was beyond him.

Oddly, the quarian was correct. By simple force of tone, he had the woman momentarily speechless, quiet with thought. After a moment she said, "They don't have personalities yet, but they will, they _will_. I can see them budding already! One, he's very quiet, always protecting me, I can see it in my head but damn it they won't let me build it!"

She whirled on the human. "Electronics! _Things_, so I can create! I can't _stop _it, it's you who's making me mad! There's nothing in here! Nothing! I can't build!" She raised her madly shaking hands. "See? See? You're doing this to me!"

The quarian regarded her impassively. It was hard to tell what he was thinking behind his mask, and he said nothing to indicate what he thought of her words. He nodded. "You haven't been eating. If ve let you build, vill you eat?"

The human watched silently, a little dumbfounded by the exchange.

"Anything," the woman replied immediately. "Give me materials. Give me food. I'll eat, just let me build!"

Her voice rose in desperation. She fought to lower it; closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Unable to calm herself that way, she began to pace again, going back to muttering as she usually did. Only now her mutterings had more meaning to it, now that the quarian was there to listen. Mechanical details and equations spilled from her lips; they were hideously out of order but she seemed to make sense out of them.

She seemed to be excited at the prospect of building again.

The quarian picked up on them. They came in disjointed snatches, and out of order, but he could see the path her mind was struggling to take. "I vill help you gazzer the necessary materials. Let's get started."

Nobody really liked a quarian telling them what to do, but they obeyed. Their initial skepticism of his presence was assuaged by one of the salarians working on the project.

"Quarians, for their other faults, are intelligent. Masters of technology. Listen to him, and you will not regret it."

They were able to gather her rudimentary materials within six hours, and delivered them. She would only have about half of the tools required, but nobody thought to check that. So, the next day, they found her with her fingertips bloodied from trying to assemble certain components by hand. The quarian was exasperated.

"Get her medical supplies. I'll go in and assist her," he said. He didn't bother with the lab coat this time. Clearly the woman was not afraid of him.

"Stop," he commanded as he strode up to her. He wasn't a terribly imposing figure, quarians being, on average, smaller than humans, but he knew how to inject authority into his voice. "I vill help you. Do you not realize you have hurt yourself?"

"Doesn't matter," she replied immediately. "Didn't have... have... tools. I can't wait for tools."

And she went right back to what she was doing. It was hard to discern what was going through her mind, but she was obviously annoyed then that he would stop her merely because she had a little injury. She had work to do, damn it all!

At which the quarian rather calmly grabbed her wrists and forcibly pulled her away from the machine. "No," he said. "You vill do as I say, or you vill get no more parts."

In the observation room beyond, the scientists were getting understandably distressed by the sight, and one of them was even scurrying for the door.

His grip on her wrists was firm and his eyes were narrow, pale slits under the fogged curve of his visor. "If you destroy your fingers, you vill have nozing to vork vith. So. You vill tell me vat to do, and I vill do it, until your fingers are healed. Understand?" It was somewhat ironic that he was forcefully telling her that he would obey her. The scientists failed to see the humor in this situation.

The woman's eyes rolled towards him, semi-panicked at the thought of no more electronic parts. She jerked back sharply, trying to shake him off, before replying, teeth gritted, "You. Won't. You-" she paused abruptly, thinking. The quarian was smart enough to figure out that she was making a house, so to speak, for an artificial intelligence, but that was far into the future when it would come together, so maybe her fingers would heal by then and...

But damn it, she couldn't just sit there! Her hands needed to do it by themselves; she would go mad if she wasn't able to physically work on it!

"Tools," she said desperately. "Tools, I'll work with tools, no hands-on. Yes? Deal?"

The quarian did not release her yet, but instead tilted his helmet as he regarded her. "After medi-gel and bandages, yes." It was about this time that the scientists caught up, and before the project lead (who was also a female human) could angrily demand he release their patient, he did. Her face was stormy with anger. "She has agreed to … take it easy, so to speak."

There was a flurry of activity while they applied a bit of medi-gel to her hopelessly torn fingers and bandaged them up. The project lead was torn between kicking the quarian out, or keeping him around, as he seemed useful to the project. "We'll watch him for now," she told the Board of Directors.

He seemed content to remain in the cell for now, examining her machine and keeping an eye on his patient. "Ah, you made a common mistake here. See? Very unusual, to see zis combination of skill and inexperience." He was also cleaning the blood off of the components she had been working with after she'd injured herself. "Vhere did you learn zis?"

"School, of course," she replied, remarkably settling into a more lucid state now that she was finally allowed to do what she wanted. "Braseltar Institute of Technology on Illium; good school. I was a good student, too. I wouldn't look for my files though." She laughed once, bitterly. "They're probably erased."

She went on. "Worked with a virtual intelligence project team after school. Lots of different aliens. Political move, I think."

After a moment she jerked her eyes over to him and added, "Mariah." She held out a hand.

He occasionally glanced her way as she spoke, but had his attention focused on the machine. "Illium. Very good place." He didn't take the bait of questioning her missing files. This could have been out of a lack of curiosity, or for reasons of his own. "Mm, vorking vis aliens is good for you. Many different perspectives!"

Her introduction caught him off-guard, though. He looked at her hand, blinked, and nodded politely. "Ahera'Lorrz vas Nedas," he said. He saw that she was still holding out her hand and hesitantly offered his own, clearly confused by the gesture.

Mariah grasped his hand firmly and pumped it once, twice up and down before letting go. "Human greeting," she explained, getting back to work.

After a moment she added, "I thought quarians stayed with the flotilla."

Ahera let her shake his arm about, quietly amused, before he went back to work. At her words, he stopped, glanced briefly over his shoulder, and said, "Young quarians leave for zheir pilgrimages, of course. I am no longer velcome on the Flotilla. I live here now."

He stood and admired her handiwork. "If I recall, you promised to eat once you had vorked on your machine a bit. Vell, it seems to be coming along nicely, so, how about you make good on your vord, mm?"

"Oh." She didn't question further, and whether this was because out of respect for his past or because she had moved on to other, more important things was not clear.

At his next words she didn't look up. "Not yet, not yet. This transmitter doesn't work yet."

He folded his arms and stubbornly put himself between her and the rudimentary machine. "No. You need to eat. Ve gave you parts, and ve are getting you tools. Now you vill eat, and rest, and tomorrow you vill have so much vork zat you vill not know vat to do vith yourself."

He lowered his visor to glare meaningfully at her, as if daring her to question his ultimatum.

The woman's hands clenched and began to shake violently again. Her sentences began to break up. "No, I-I need to-wait. Just a little more. Damn it, get out of my way!"

The quarian didn't lash out at her again immediately. He stepped closer, though, his stance aggressive and authoritative. He would try to intimidate her before he would use force. The scientists would probably kick him out if he accidentally hurt her.

And he really had no desire to. She was sick, but she was still a sentient creature. "No. Do you vant me to take avay vat ve have given you? Stand. Down."

Mariah took a step back warily. She didn't think he would hurt her, but she didn't really know. She didn't know the habits of quarians.

It really wasn't the best way to speak to someone of her state of mind, either. Her mind was spiralling out of control at this point, highly upset at not being able to continue her work. But she didn't know what to do.

She stared at him, dumbly.

The quarian held his ground, watching her. After a moment he said, "Good. Now, come vis me," his stance relaxed and he offered her his hand. He was acting on instinct rather than technique. He was an engineer, not a psychiatrist, and was unaware that his rough handling of the human's mind might cause her more damage.

The scientists hadn't interfered yet. All they saw was him standing there. He hadn't touched her, but they were keeping a keen eye on the alien.

"Yes. No. Wait." Mariah took another step back, staring longingly at the pile of electronics on the table. "But I _have _to..."

Ahera strode forward and, grabbing her wrist, forcibly began to drag her away from the machine. "No, it does not vork zhat vay," he said.

He made it halfway to the door before he was accosted by angry scientists. They pried him off her and sought to shoo Mariah away from her machine in a much less forceful manner. The project lead began to lecture him on her fragile state of mind, and he stared back impassively.

"She is not going to listen to you even if you are nice. You vant to drug her instead?" He asked, not seeing the point of all their objections.

She paused and glanced back to Mariah to see if her team was having any success.

Unfortunately, Ahera's rough handling of her had driven her back to pacing, and each time she tried to approach her work she was gently pulled away. This rather upset her.

After a few minutes, however, she was coaxed out of her room, and the orderlies managed to get her down the hall to where a nice private room was set up for her to eat (they didn't want to upset her by having her eat with other people, and they didn't want her to eat with the temptation of work surrounding her).

Mariah was rather pissed at the whole ordeal, but sat down and dutifully began to eat the food provided.

The team was quietly jubilant that they had been able to get Mariah to eat. It was a small step, but it was a step towards victory, and one that had almost been ruined by the quarian.


	2. Chapter 2

As such, he was kept away from the project for several days after that. Mariah would receive the attention of the staff which, while attentive, was less skilled with assisting her in her work. It soon became apparent that the amount of rest and food she would indulge in was proportional with the amount of work she got done.

So, with reluctance, on the fourth day, they let Ahera return. Mariah had made quite a bit of progress at this point. The quarian did not greet her, but instead circled her device slowly, carefully. "Hmm. Sloppy," he waved a hand over some soldering one of the team had done for her. "Also," he pointed to some tiny bolts that had not been securely screwed in. "You need better help," he concluded.

"Yes, I know, I know, I've had to redo a whole bunch of things they've screwed up," she replied, obviously irritated. She paused and softened a little. "But they tried. Not suited for this, anyway. Salarians caught on quick, though. Always liked salarians. They did okay jobs."

She glanced at him. "Good to see you back. Don't bring anyone else. I don't want even you working on this."

She bent over another part she was working on, using a very small tool to affix something in place.

The quarian shook his head. "I don't sink anyone could keep up vis you." He let her work for a moment, taking in her request and shrugging. "Tell me vat to do, and I vill do it."

He spent the rest of the day assisting her. The scientists had given him the option of assisting her in a subservient manner to allay any lingering fears she might have of him, or of simply being sent back to the city he was currently stationed at. This strange woman and her machines intrigued him, so he decided to stay.

He was higly skilled, and had a firm grasp of basic principles of design. He also had a custom omni-tool with a variety of helpful tricks. He was, simply put, an intuitive and adaptive partner, and an asset to her efforts.

The machine began to take shape. It was very large, and they were forced to build it in a lying-down position, like an extremely large dog.

Mariah was asked numerous times what it was, or what it would do. She refused to answer, simply waved them away with a vague response with way too many technological factors for them to understand. If Ahera asked, she did not answer at all.

The thing now looked like the skeleton of a very big animal, and the scientists were beginning to have their doubts about the whole project.

Mariah picked up on this, for she worked faster.

Ahera did not ask her. Instead, he made quiet assumptions, and every now and then voiced them. "It reminds me," he said one evening, "of a varren. Built for speed and strength."

He did not need confirmation from the human to know things. He had examined the pistons they'd installed in the legs. This thing would move fast and hit hard.

"A very complex brain is going to be required to run zis," he said another evening as he uncomplainingly got to work. He would sometimes spend entire nights silent, and when he did speak, it was usually to say something unnerving. "Hmm. Acquiring some of zose parts vould be illegal."

"Doesn't have to be complex," Mariah allowed vaguely, and glanced at him from the corner of her eye before adding, "I don't need to 'acquire' anything. I can build those parts."

She turned away again, her hands carefully and lovingly turning over a small power cell over in her hands.

"Why so interested?"

"I am helping you build somesing. I have a vested interest in vat becomes of it." He shrugged. After a moment, he added, "Also, you might not know zis, but quarians―ve do not like AI so much. Even complex VIs give us zhe creeps."

He glanced at her. "I vill not lie to you, Mariah. I see somesing starting here. I do not know vere it will go, but I zink I have an idea. And it is curiosity zat has kept me from stopping you."

"Can't stop, won't stop. You know that," Mariah replied, and frowned, her hands slowing. "I know I'm... not all there. Not my fault. But I can't stop working. You stop me, I will... likely die."

She sighed and put the piece aside before starting afresh, beginning with the smallest of transistors. "Never thought I'd end up in a mental hospital."

"Neizer did I," Ahera admitted. "Of course, I am not a patient." He worked in silence with her. Despite his misgivings, he seemed dedicated to the project. Mariah rarely spoke, and wasn't exactly easy to get along with, but there was a woman underneath all that compulsion, and she seemed like a pretty decent person.

After a few more hours, he nodded. "Time for you to eat, and then sleep. More vork for you tomorrow."

"Not now," Mariah muttered, but she gave that response every time, and with some intimidation and coaxing she was dragged away from her work and went into the separate room to eat and sleep.

She seemed a little despondent as she stared into the space above her bed. Then again, her emotions were usually hard to tell.

The scientists were quite happy with their find. They had settled the woman into a routine, and they were studying her day in and day out. In addition, the impressive machine she was building was attracting a lot of interest in the scientific community.

It was not the right kind of interest.

Over the past few days the scientists had been getting pressure from their superiors. This woman was to be moved to a larger facility, under a different research team.

The scientists were none too pleased about this, but they didn't think that anything would come of it. As soon as their superiors saw the findings, they'd want to keep the woman for themselves. They had just gotten her comfortable. Maybe they could help her.

The staff was having a small celebration over their latest success. Only the quarian was not present for their little office party. He was sitting, alone, in his living quarters. They were small and dark, lit only by the display of the holographic screens hovering around his desk, and he liked it that way.

The company their superiors wanted to transfer this woman to didn't exist.

Hmmm.

He said nothing and did nothing. The next day, as he worked alongside their subject, he asked her, abruptly, "Do you like it here, miss?" Starting about a week ago, even when he was being forceful (which he didn't have a chance to do much of these days) he always tacked on the "miss."

"Mariah," she corrected him, as always. She carefully screwed in a piece, air-sealed it, and activated the piece. The fingers of the gigantic hand retracted into a paw, then slid silently out to be a full-fledged hand again.

"No."

Ahera nodded silently. Her curt, honest answer was what he'd expected, and what he needed. He watched the machine's flexing action and nodded approvingly. "Clever."

He worked in silence for a little while longer. "There is talk of taking you to a new facility. Larger. Probably more supplies, better care, a larger staff. I don't suppose you'd vant that eizer, vould you? If you could go anyver, vher vould you go?"

"I would not. I would―" she paused, her hands stilling for the briefest of moments. She got to work again. "I would _like _to go home. But I can't. I will settle for merely getting out of here, somewhere private, alone, somewhere I can work without people looking over my shoulder. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere would be ideal."

"Sounds as if you have already put zought to escape," he replied.

He was silent. In those few moments, he made up his mind. He felt like a fool for it, and he gave his head a shake, as if in disgust with himself, but he knew there was only one thing he could do. "Zat is good, because I have reason to believe someone vants you who does not have your best interests in mind."

Mariah actually looked up for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "My work has caught attention," she said slowly. "Citadel security? The Alliance?" Her brow furrowed. "I won't go with either of them."

"I don't sink so," Ahera said softly. "I sink somesing worse. Something less… official." He had no reason other than a hunch based off his discovery of the fraudulent company to think that someone shady planned to get their mitts on her, but better to overreact to a hunch than let something bad happen.

If he went through with what he planned to, he could get in some serious trouble, but it wouldn't be the first time he did. "I zink someone vants to make you vork for zem. Slave labor, maybe. I'm not sure, but it sounds dangerous. You could _be_ dangerous, miss," he reminded her. After a moment, he added, "Zough I do not sink zis is your intention."

"No, it is not," she agreed, shaking out her cramped hands. She finished the other paw and stared almost sadly down at the mechanical beast, touching its large head.

"I suppose," she murmured, "I should begin work on the brain."

The quarian nodded. "You made zis creature to protect you. Likely, to help you escape," he glanced down at it. "Tell me vhat you need, and I will get it for you. The sooner I can get you out of here, the better. I'm afraid that you vill be on your own, however, once you are free, so try to be thinking of zat in the meantime."

He looked to her. His eyes were only just visible, pale, slanted, and blinking behind his mask. "My estimation is zat ve have two days. Tell me vhat you need me to do."

Mariah blinked. She had made this creature to make it, not to do any particular thing. "I do not enforce certain protocols on my creations," she told him flatly. "What they do is... of their own design."

It was so very, very dangerous to tell him this. "I make fully-functioning," she said quietly, "fully capable of sentience, AIs."

The quarian cocked his head. Machines with no purpose. Sentient creatures, with the right to choose. He remained unnervingly silent, his expression unreadable because of his environmental suit, before he laughed quietly. "You build _children."_

Mariah turned back to her work. "Yes," she said.

After a long pause, she said, "If we have to do this in two days, I must have parts. I cannot work from scratch that fast." A small, humorless chuckle floated from her. "Fast, yes, that fast, no."

"Then I'll get zhem for you." He worked with her a few hours more before he left to do as promised. He had to throw his weight around a bit, and be a little rude with his superiors, but the delivery was promised by dinner. He sat in his room, eating supper (nutrient paste from a tube) while he contemplated his future.

He was going to help this woman escape. He had decided before that she didn't deserve this, but after their last stilted conversation, he was determined. Whatever was causing her to do this, she was somehow procreating, and she wouldn't want to see her children used by some nameless company as killing machines.

He tapped his two fingers idly against the arm of the chair. He was going to have to high-tail it out of here, himself, and find a new place to stay, and only hope this company didn't come down on him once he'd slipped away. Maybe he could find a shuttle to Omega? Not the most savory of places, but people were bound to underestimate a lone, battered-looking quarian there…

While he was musing over this, an orderly delivered the requested supplies to Mariah.

Mariah took them without a word, as she was wont to do, and flatly told the orderly, "I wish to remain here." While it was not true, it wasn't exactly a lie, either: she much rather would stay here than go to whoever wished her ill. At least here, they wanted her to be comfortable, and did not expect anything of her.

When the asari left, she opened her parts. They were sans the ones that would be illegal to get, and not all of them were there, but it was a start.

She got to work.

It was getting close to the time she was expected to eat and go to bed when Security began having strange and annoying problems with the monitoring cameras. They fizzed and flickered before stubbornly shutting down, one at a time.

There was no immediate reason why there was a problem, so the psychologists decided it was simply a maintenance issue and sent a tech to figure it out.

One of the salarians, however, was just noticing an odd thing about them about the time a few of the guards and patients wondered what the quiet, quickly-disappearing clicking sound in the ventilation shaft was.

Ahera did not notice the noises. After finishing dinner, he intended to turn in early in preparation for tomorrow's workload, but he couldn't sleep. He knew what was bothering him. He was worried.

Maybe they couldn't pull this off. What if he failed, and he got caught, and she ended up being shipped off to wherever it was they wanted to take her?

He didn't know the woman very well personally (there wasn't much of a woman left, in his opinion, to know), but that didn't mean she deserved this. And her creations, her _children…_

His heart constricted.

So he found himself sighing, shaking his head at his idiocy, and leaving. He would help her get work done tonight. He didn't care how late he had to stay up. He was going to do this right. He made his way briskly to the workshop, and on the way passed a minor ruckus in the hallway and cocked his head. "Vhat's wrong?"

"We got some kind of… rat or something in the vents," a man in uniform groused.

"A vhat?"

"Nevermind." The human waved him on and, with a shrug, Ahera continued on his way.

The rats had left the vent by the time the guards popped open maintenance hatches and checked. Which was not surprising, for they were not rats.

Mariah turned very slowly in her seat as Ahera made his approach. She did not greet him, but studied him with unusual wariness. Her hands, for once, were folded neatly on her lap and her lips were firmly pressed together as she watched him.

The ventilation shaft, across the room, was hanging open.

Ahera did not notice her strange stance at first. He was preoccupied. "I decided to stay and help. You should rest, but if you leave me detailed instructions, I can carry on vhile you sleep. I don't… sink there is much… time…"

He trailed off as he approached her, and then froze, his posture tense, one double-bent leg raised.

He glanced rapidly left and right. "Vhat? Vhat is wrong?"

After a long, tense moment of studying him, Mariah pointed to his chair and said, "Sit."

She did not continue speaking until he did. "When I was first... coming down with this illness, I created many, many robots. Artificial intelligences. When I was found out, they all flung themselves at the security and the doctors to let me escape. I thought they all died."

After a short pause, in which her hands began to shake again and it was obvious she was keeping relatively still by sheer force of will, she concluded, "Three of them lived."

The clicking noise sounded, like a dozen little rats skittering about. Out from under Mariah's desk came three shapes: two spider-like creatures, and one that looked like a triop. Not that Ahera would know what that was.

The two spiders were nearly identical. The smaller one clambered up to the woman's shoulder and perched there like some grotesque pet, and the other larger one settled to the floor by her feet. The triop positioned itself between the two adults, head twisted to keep Ahera in its vision.

Ahera had listened to her carefully. At the beginning of her story, he lowered his head and nodded sadly. He was a little surprised to see her shaking. She had never displayed anything like emotion before, and what he thought was such a display caught him off-guard. "Miss―" he leaned forward a bit, as if to comfort her, but the appearance of the robots he immediately shrank back against his chair.

In an instant his calm demeanor and somewhat deadpan voice changed. He drew his feet up onto the chair and regarded the triop warily. "How… charming." He did not sound charmed. He sounded nervous.

"Oh, it's looking at me. Vell. I'm glad to… er, to see zey made it okay."

He was glad, but he really didn't want any of those spindly-legged, clicking _things _anywhere near him.

"Yes," Mariah replied, and was about to go on when the triop spoke.

Its voice was flat and mechanical, with no inflection at all. "You are afraid of us."

The flat, emotionless voice just seemed to make it more horrible, and Ahera jerked and pulled his knees up, curling himself further. The chair had been designed for an adult human, so he had no problem fitting in it. Quarians weren't a particularly large race. "You're right," he said, "I am. I don't like bugs."

He took a deep breath and, by sheer strength of will, unbent his legs and slowly set his feet on the ground. "You're not von, of course. But you _look _like von."

The voice spoke again, this time from the small spider on Mariah's shoulder. It was the same voice, but a different robot.

"You are more afraid of insects than you are AIs. This is interesting."

"Too late, too late," Mariah interrupted. "Time for work now. Almost done with the body, but it needs to be finished, no time! No time at all," and she stood up abruptly, beginning to pace. The one on her shoulder hung on calmly, and the one by her feet followed her back and forth, back and forth like a dog. The one between her and Ahera did not move.

"There is no time to finish the brain, Mother," the one on her shoulder said.

"Don't need to, now that you're here. I built it with you in mind," she looked at the triop on the floor. "Big, strong... this body," she indicated the gigantic robot, "is for you."

There was no emotion in its face or eyes, but the way the triop stared wordlessly at the machine was strangely of surprise.

"But there is so much work. I have to extract your brain. I have to make adjustments for you to be able to work it. I have to―" and she launched into a tirade of equations and ideas, her movements becoming more jerky and her eyes glazing over.

The robot by her feet followed closely, and the one on her shoulder began responding to her equations, calmly helping to channel her ideas into something useful and less chaotic. It seemed it had done this before.

"Zis is an instinctive response. I assure you, I find you repulsive in every vay possible," Ahera said, not moving from his chair.

The scene played out around him, and he watched Mariah move back and forth across the lab for a few moments before hs set his feet down on the floor and trotted towards her.

"I vill help. Tell me what to do." The arrival of three machines―small though they might be―wouldn't go unnoticed for long.

"You will not touch my brain," the large one said.

"No, no, I'll do that," Mariah said, waving a hand. "Body needs more configurement. Tail does not slide out all the way. The jaws sometimes hang open. These need to be addressed. Ahera, you will fix these things and anything else you find. I will work on the brain. But it needs to be hidden―" She sat down abruptly in her chair; the spider on the floor reacted to this sudden change of pace smoothly and settled on the floor again.

"Come here," she said to the triop; it obediently skittered over to her, up her leg, over her lap, and onto the table.

Ahera ignored the triop and nodded to Mariah. He got to work, his pace frenzied. "If you can keep zhem hidden," he said, "I think perhaps ve vill have until tomorrow night. You should make your escape late, if you can. I do not know how you vill get off-vorld… hmmm," he paused.

He was standing in front of what would be the creature's head, his nimble, skilled fingers quickly adjusting the jaw.

"Are any of you machines," he asked, turning to look at the three gathered creatures, "Equipped for hacking? Overriding? Your best bet is to hijack a ship."

"Yes," one of them said; it was hard to tell which one had spoke. Upon close examination, it was the quiet one at her feet. "There are several ships that could be of use. We have marked three possibilities."

Mariah said nothing. She was hard at work. On the table, the triop's eyes had shut off as it lay limp on the table, the brain being carefully extracted by the woman. It was small enough to fit in her palm.

There was a long silence in which they worked, and then the one on her shoulder spoke. "I thought quarians stayed on the flotilla."

"They do. I am an exception," he said simply, continuing his work. "If you zink you can handle ze ship on your own, good luck. I vill need to make my own escape. But," he looked briefly to them, the flicker of his blinking eyes just visible, "If you need help, I can do zat, too."

He moved briskly around the machine and began to work on the tail. "Hm. I only hope I get a chance to see zis in action. Regardless of how anyvon feels about zis, seeing this in motion will be very satisfying," he seemed to be speaking more to himself. Mariah wasn't the chatty type, and never had been.

Mariah put the body of the triop under her desk, unhooking the last of the wires from its head.

"We will store ourselves in small spaces," the shoulder-spider said. "If we remain still, it is likely the psychologists would not be able to understand what we are."

The woman interrupted. "I need a bigger brain-case," she said, cracking open the case that held the tiny components of the triop's brain. "Or I must add to this inside the head itself. A brain-case is more efficient."

The quarian nodded. "I guess zat is our best bet," he responded with a shrug.

He had offered to put a lot on the line to help someone he didn't even know. He was not surprised that Mariah hadn't acted suspicious of him, but he'd expected some sort of resistance from her machines.

_Then again,_ he thought to himself, _why should they suspect anything? Surely they have come to the logical conclusion by now. _

And that conclusion was that they had nobody else to help them.

"I do not sink I can get you a brain-case," he told Mariah, shaking his head.

"You'll just have to see to it zat ze brain is suitably protected." He paused. "Vait. I might have somesing. It is not perfect, but it might provide a bit of extra support. An old respiration canister―I vould have to cut and drill it, but it vould vork, maybe?"

"Yes," Mariah said immediately. "Use that. Bring it i―"

The spider on her shoulder leapt down and shot under the desk by her feet; the larger one did the same. Mariah turned as an orderly stepped into the lab and scowled angrily.

Ah, it was past her bedtime. What was she, some sort of child?

"Not yet," she snapped at the salarian.

Ahera turned to the orderly. "I have informed her, sir, that she must sleep after an hour has passed from her regular sleep schedule. She has fifteen more minutes. It vas the best I could do. She is very adamant, you know. She told me zat if we sent her off, she would simply not sleep."

He shrugged. "I figured it vould be best to vork vith her razzer zhan fill her up vith medications, yes?"

"Yes, of course, but we have a strict schedule here, and―"

"No. Not yet. Still working. Go away."

"Miss Mariah, you simply must sleep," the salarian said soothingly, which seemed to irritate her even more; her movements became more jerky. Her scowl deepened.

Noticing this and giving Ahera a "you-will-pay-for-this" look, he sighed. "Very well. Fifteen minutes, and then you need to eat and sleep, all right, Mariah?"

"Yes, yes. Go away now."

He left.

Ahera might have been worried about that look if he hadn't known that, in a little over twenty-four hours, he would be jobless anyway. He waited for the salarian to go before he looked to Mariah. "If you let me, I vill vork on it vhile you sleep. Just pretend to freak out vonce your time is up, and I vill play along."

Now that he was irrevocably involved in this break-out, he was starting to enjoy it a little bit. He was always happiest thinking on his feet, and he certainly had to do that here.

"I cannot bring you zhe case until tomorrow, unless you vant me to wire it up myself." He didn't expect Mariah to change her mind about letting him work on the brain. "You vill have to find some vay to keep it safe."

"Don't need to 'pretend,'" she replied irritably, "as I am not going to bed tonight. Too much work to do. Salarian can suck a cock."

And she got back to work, obviously pissed and muttering "I am not a child..."

Ahera shook his head. "I know zat. Your mind vorks differently, but it is still ze mind of an adult. If you piss zem off, zough, you will blow your chance. Zey could sedate you, and you vould not be prepared to leave, or perhaps zhey vill discover your children. Too risky. So! I vould heed my advice."

He cocked his head. "Unless you do not trust me to do zis for you."

Mariah glanced at him.

"He called us 'children,'" a voice said from under the desk.

"Yes, he did," Mariah replied, glancing down between her feet.

"Interesting."

"You call me 'Mother.'"

"That is because you are."

"As you are my children."

"But he is a quarian."

"Yes he is."

"The job I did on the computers will not last long," said the same exact voice, though it was the other spider, "so I do suggest we silence before they see Mother talking to her desk."

Silence.

"Hm. Interesting. Zey have yet barely begun to exist, and yet already zey dislike my people," Ahera mused. He shook his head. "At any rate, you haven't much time yet to decide."

"I was making an observation," the voice replied, and was hushed by Mariah.

He went about wrapping up what little tweaks he could get done before the fifteen minutes was up. The project lead stood in the doorway on the far side of the workshop, and nodded at him, her face drawn and suspicious.

He turned to Mariah, and said in a normal tone of voice, "Your fifteen minutes are up, ma'am. You must sleep now. You need your rest."

At his voice, Mariah hunched her shoulders and glared at her work. "Not yet," she said, which was really her response to every single time it was time to go to bed. "Very delicate work. Breathe wrong, and it'll break."

"May I remind you, miss, zat I am wearing a respirator and cannot exactly breaze directly on your device. So! It vill be safe. Come along, no time for zis foolishness," he made as if to reach for her, hesitated, and pulled his hand back, glancing for the doorway. It was an act, of course. He assumed that, at this point, Mariah was playing along.

"Come along," he said again, making a shooing gesture at her.

"Not _yet,_" Mariah snapped, glaring angrily at his hand. It was unclear whether or not she was playing around right now; it was even unclear in her own mind. She snapped her gaze at the project head, who was clearly not amused nor intimidated by her scowl, and bent over the brain again.

"Miss Mariah!" He said sharply. He very rarely spoke her name. "Ve had a deal. Now, if you do not cooperate ve vill be forced to make you cooperate. Is zat vat you vant? To be put to sleep chemically? You vill be too groggy in ze morning to vork!"

He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. "Look, if you vant, I vill do some vork for you. But please, do not make me call in security."

Mariah gritted her teeth and slowly, laboriously, put her tools down and got up. The glare she shot the project head was poisonous.

"Some day," she muttered, "I will find a way to wire my brain so I do not have to sleep. Then... then I will be able to work with no interruption."

She looked at the quarian, pointed at the brain and snapped, "Do _not _touch this."

And she stalked for the door.

Ahera nodded. "Of course, miss," he assured her. And, true to his word, he did not touch the brain. After a few words with the staff, he was allowed to stay as late as he needed to, and Ahera did what he could to make the machine operable by morning.

Now that he knew exactly what it would be for, which was sort of what he'd expected, he was able to improvise his adjustments.

He recalibrated the shock absorbing cylinders in the legs so that the creature would be able to run and jump more smoothly, he stripped the spinal column of half of its reinforcements and then painstakingly installed a piecemeal system that, while just as strong, would allow for more flexibility.

He did these sorts of improvisational revisions as he went. He tested the electrical connections. He rewired some of it. Mariah was in for a bit of a shock when she woke. Her machine, while in the same spirit of its original design, was drastically changed. He was sure not to mess with the aesthetics, though.

As he left, he realized he had about four hours to sleep before he would need to be up again. Oh, well. The machine just needed a brain, now, and some more aesthetic touches. It looked mostly like a skeleton. He retrieved the air canister case from his room and left it for Mariah before he dragged himself, exhausted, to his small dark room.


	3. Chapter 3

His alarm woke him. He sighed, stretched, and went about his daily suit maintenance before he strapped on a sack of nutrient paste and sucked down breakfast. About an hour after he woke, he went to check on Mariah.

He was startled to see six well-dressed men in the lobby. Most of the project team was there, along with the head. The human woman looked highly upset.

"Ah, this is the quarian? Nice to meet you, sir," one of the suited men extended his hand, and Ahera, startled by the conviviality of the gesture, shook it. "We've heard you were indispensable on this project from your superiors."

That was the next surprise of the day. He looked to the gathered project leaders, plainly startled even with his face hidden by his helmet. Some of them looked away, bashful. They might not have personally liked Ahera, but they knew to give credit where credit was due. He felt suddenly sorry for them. They weren't bad people. They didn't know what was in store for Mariah.

"Sank you, sir," he said, nodding, "but if you do not mind, I vould like to check on ze patient?"

"She's up and fed," a salarian orderly explained to him. Ahera nodded and walked briskly to the workshop, but as he left, he heard one of the suited men speaking.

"We will make sure she is comfortable. We already have custody signed over to us, you understand. We would really like to have her settled into her new home tonight…"Ahera's fingers clenched. Damn them. They'd come sooner than he expected! Well, so much for a clean break-out. This one was probably going to be very messy and very expensive.

He walked out of hearing range before one of the other men added, "And, if possible, we would like to discuss with you the possibility of hiring your quarian…"

The workshop was mercifully empty, save for Mariah and her machines. "Change of plans. Ve need to go as soon as you are finished. Zhey are here for you."

Mariah, however, was not finished quietly freaking out about the changes he had made.

She pointed to the machine, her breathing harsh and quick, and her face thunderous.

" What," she choked, "did you _do_?"

Ahera actually skidded to a stop. "I helped," he began, "and it's a good sing I did! Zis has to be ready to go! It vill be faster, stronger, more flexible, and ze viring is now much more reliable. A slip-up in ze middle of an escape could cost your freedom or even your life. So!" He gestured to the machine. "I prepared it." 

"No," she hissed. "No, no, _no_! I told you to _fix problems_! Not fucking_ change _it! There are _reasons _I installed what I did!"

Her voice was quickly rising to a shriek, and her whole body was vibrating. "I have to start _over _now! WHAT THE _FUCK _IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

At first Ahera took a step back, startled by her vehemence. "But we—I sought…" Then he stepped forward, squared his shoulders, and slapped her. "Calm. _Down."_ He hissed. "If you yell, zey vill come, and all vill be lost, you fool!" 

He glanced to the machine, and then to her. "It is inoperable now? Zere is no chance it vill be able to sync vith the brain you have made?"

Mariah actually stumbled back. A small clicking noise sounded in the room as the machines rushed to her rescue, and Mariah made a hand motion that stilled the noise.

Her eyes were glazed over with fury. Slapping her had been the wrong thing to do. It did not startle her into any sort of clarity. Not only did it send orderlies and security into a frenzy running down to the lab, it drove her into deeper rage.

" Get," she snarled, "_out_."

He only had a few more moments to speak to her before security arrived. He took a deep breath and said, his tone low and pleading, "Look, I didn't—please, just come to your senses, zhey vill take you, and—" but by then a security officer had already entered.

"Dammit, you pushed your luck one too many times, quarian!" He thundered. It was a turian, and an impressive specimen at that. He made to grab Ahera's arm, but the quarian nimbly sidestepped him.

"I do not need you to escort me out, sir."

"You're lucky I don't beat you into a pulp. Hitting _patients? _What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" The turian gestured angrily for him to leave.

He looked as if he really did want to start punching, but knew that one wrong move could be a deathblow to the fragile alien, and as angry as he was, he didn't want to kill anybody that day.

Ahera shook his head. What a waste. He glanced once over his shoulder as he was led out.

Mariah was still shaking, her eyes glazed over and her face pale. She refused to look at him, and instead went to circling the machine, hissing under her breath about the changes he had made and how the fuck was she supposed to work with this the brain wasn't meant to be this complex it'll take so much more time now and there was no _time_, no time at _all_...

Fuck that quarian. What the fuck had he been thinking? Didn't he ever _think _about the ramifications of what he was doing? No, he had to go on instinct instead of his rationality! She had made it like this on _purpose_, she had it all planned out in her mind and now she either had to change _everything _on the body or make the brain much bigger and they would both take time, too much _time_!

Ahera was officially reprimanded and relieved of duty for the day. He was left to his room, where he paced, exhausted and at his wit's end. There was nothing he could do. She was out of his power to help now. It was just as well, probably. What would he have gotten out of helping her, anyway? Nothing. A lost job, that's what. It was for the better. 

If they had never called her "mother," he might have left it at that. Synthetic or not, they were intelligent, and she clearly cared for them as much as they cared for her. He didn't understand it, but he didn't have to for it to shake him to his core and open an old wound in him.

He sat on his bunk and lowered his head. They were her _children._ She needed help. She needed someone to help her and her children…

He gave a low, raw sob.

Mariah was highly agitated, and her new caretakers decided that it would be best if she came with them now, and were losing patience with her former caretakers. They sent an orderly in, who very calmly approached her. "Miss Mariah. There has been a change in plans," she said.

"It seems they are moving you to a newer facility. You will be better cared for there. They are also… er, financially… well, they're better off then we are. They can give you more of what you want. And," she sighed as she admitted, "what you need, as well. Your machine will be able to come along, too, of course, but we'll have to ship it separately."

Mariah was still walking around her machine, furiously tearing off pieces Ahera had installed and throwing them across the floor. That spine had to go, of course. It was strong, but it was far too flexible to hold the weight of the outside plates when finished. Idiot! Of course he didn't think of that.

The rewiring had to go, too. If she wanted it up and running as soon as possible, she couldn't have the wiring be as complex as this. The poor machine brain wouldn't know what to do with all this complexity! _Idiot_!

The pistons could stay. Wait—no, that was even more rewiring. Damn it!

"I am not," she snapped, "a child to be shipped around. I am not a contract to be bought and sold. I am not something you can ooh and ahh at in a zoo. I would much rather be here, and since I am perfectly capable of making my own goddamn decisions, I am making a decision to stay here."

She snapped her gaze up at her. "Did you even think to look at the company you're selling me to like a slave? No? Of course not. If you did, you would realize it doesn't even _exist_. Why don't you do your fucking research before blindly selling sentient beings?"

"Buy—no money was exchanged! Madam, we are a mental health and research facility. We are not being paid anything to keep you here, and certainly no one gave us any money to send you off to this new facility! They will be getting grants for your upkeep and projects, but that is all."

She shook her head, dismissing Mariah's ludicrous claim instantly. How would the woman know? She was obviously mentally unstable. "I will speak with them."

The suits were smooth talkers, and had no intention of letting their prize slip away. They didn't look startled or guilty at the news. They just laughed at the absurdity of it. They did kindly but firmly reinforce that they needed to leave, and soon, and they needed the woman to come with them.

The orderly returned, this time with the turian guard in tow. "Ma'am, please. We would like to do this with the least amount of stress caused to you as possible, but if you make us sedate you, we will."

Mariah didn't answer for a moment, carefully and lovingly removing a wire. "What would cause the least stress as possible is not leaving," she replied finally, setting it aside and inserting a long, thin tool into a gap. "You're not going to even ask me what I want? Tell your smooth-talking salesmen that I will not perform like a monkey in a zoo. If I go, I will not work. Period."

That was impossible for her. She couldn't _not _work. She'd tried holding out as long as possible. It just made her mad with desire to work.

However, she would not work on her machine. She would not build machines. She had other things she could do.

"I'm sure that would not effect their decision to care for you, ma'am." She said. "If you want to tell them yourself, let's go and do that, then. Your condition is unprecedented! They simply want to see you moved to a facility where you can be better cared for."

She nodded. "Let's go tell them, then. Personally, I think a bit of relaxation would do you good."

"If you want, I could tell you exactly what my condition is. It is an asari sexually transmitted disease that has the ability to jump between species to humans. It is called shan'tar. While a small annoyance to asari, it apparently causes sleep loss, nervous tics, restless pacing, migraines, and massive OCD in humans."

Mariah glanced at the orderly. "I don't. Want. To go. To another. Fucking. Facility."

The orderly blinked at her. She then shook her head. "I'm... sure we can get that looked into," she replied. "Ma'am, _please._"

The turian tensed, ready. It was coming to the point where they were about to sedate her.

"We will give you one more chance to come peacefully. I'm sorry if mister Lorzz upset you. You don't have to worry about that any more, but please, don't make me do this."

"If you touch me, I will hunt you down and kill you with my hands."

The orderly shook her head. In a quick flurry of movement, the turian had grabbed Mariah. In another instant, with practiced ease, the orderly plunged the needle she'd been concealing in her sleeve into the woman's arm.

It was then that something hit the back of the human's head, and fully on the turian's face. They were both metal and moving fast, so it was extremely painful, especially for the human.

Tiny legs stabbed into flesh, and a flat, robotic voice spoke. "You will _not _hurt Mother."

Mariah yanked the needle out. The contents had already flushed into her system, and she was already feeling woozy...

"The brain," she called desperately, before falling to the floor.

The human shrieked and began to tear at the thing on her head, utterly panicked. The turian ripped the machine away, its tiny metal legs scraping against his hard carapace, and he tossed it aside before turning to help the human woman.

"Security! We have unknown hostiles! Get in here now!" he shouted into a wrist-mounted communicator.

In the chaos, neither noticed Mariah's last call. It wouldn't have meant anything to them if they did. One thing was for sure—it was about to get hot and heavy in there.

Within instants, armed guards were moving in. The turian had moved to stand guard over both the fallen patient and the wounded orderly.

The robots were no match for guns, though they were fast and small and had tons of cover. They skittered through a sea of legs, hesitated at Mariah's cry, and leapt onto the table.

"You will _not _hurt Mother," the voice said again, and the robots grabbed the pieces on the table and launched for the ventilation system.

They were pursued. The security team's first priority was to secure Mariah, and the second was to try and cut off the fleeing hostiles.

"What the hell did that thing say before it left? Did it talk?" One of the guards asked.

Another shook his head. "You must be imagining things."

The human orderly, sobbing, was led away. Once the area was secure, more moved in to secure Mariah and get her prepped for travel. She was strapped to a floating gurney and steered away. The security team called for a search of the ventilation system, but that was easier said than done. The system was old, and complicated, and even though they blocked off routes, they had to consider certain areas at risk. "Get someone down there and get the rooms evacuated," the chief of security ordered.

Ahera had gone back to sleep shortly after returning to his room. Plagued with grief and fatigue, he'd simply curled up on his side above the sheets, breathing evenly and slowly through his respirator. The bed had been made for a human, which made him seem absurdly small against the over-large frame.

"Ahera."

The voice came from the vent on the far wall.

"_Ahera_."

He didn't immediately wake. When he did groggily force himself into semi-consciousness, he thought he was hallucinating. After a few more repetitions, the voice began to sound familiar, though. He blinked and sat up. He didn't respond, but rather waited once more, to discern the pitch and direction of the voice.

He stood on his bed and, stretching himself, peeked into the ventilation shaft. "Vhat are… vhat is going on? Vhy are you in zhe vent?"

"They took Mother." One of the spiders crept to the edge of the shaft and let out two legs like feelers, touching his visor with a small tapping sound. "We could not stop them. But we have the brain."

"We need you to help."

Ahera sighed. He didn't flinch, to his credit, when the synthetic reached out and touched him. "I knew zis vould happen."

And without hesitation, he hopped off the bunk, dug around in his desk drawer, and returned to the vent. As he unscrewed, he said, "If you have ze brain, zen ve must rescue her and find a transport off. Hmm. I vill need to see vhere she is being held, and vhere she is being taken. Zen I vill," he unscrewed the last bolt and pulled it free. "Zere. Zen I vill secure transport. Can you do zat for me? Find out vhere she is? You are tracking me using my Omni-tool, yes?"

"Yes." Carefully holding the pieces it toted on its back, the synthetic touched his arm and carefully pulled itself out, crawling down his arm.

The other spider waited patiently at the vent for its own turn.

Ahera jerked and immediately his shoulders tightened. He choked back his revulsion at the feeling of those tiny limbs, all of those horrible shifting points of contact—eergh—he could do this. He would do it for that woman. She deserved for someone to have her best interests at heart. He helped ferry it to the bed and even offered his arm for the other. By the time it crawled to his shoulder, though, he was shivering.

"Okay. When you find her, stay with her. Stay hidden, and send me her coordinates. I vill do vhat I can to slow any pursuers down and find a vehicle. I vill not be able to join you for a short time, so you vill have to keep her safe until I get there. Can you do zat?"

"We must finish our..." the small spider paused. "...sibling's... brain. It is unfinished. The sooner it is installed in the new body, the sooner she can break her way out. This one, it is a protector. What do quarians call protectors? _A trevora_?"

The use of the word "sibling" was surprising, and indicated a sense of personality.

"We have also considered asking the geth for help. Given that they are synthetic, it stands to reason that they would welcome us or an organic mind feverishly working on building more."

The larger spider said nothing, instead ferried the rest of the pieces from Ahera's shoulder to the bed.

Ahera fidgeted impatiently. In his opinion, it would be better to simply take the brain with them and finish it later, but any extra firepower they could get, they might need. "Fine. Do Vhatever you need to do. Zey have probably packaged ze machine, and taken it to ze shuttle bay. She vill likely be near it. I hope she is," he shook his head, "zough I doubt ve vill be so lucky…"

At the mention of the geth, he stiffened visibly. All trembling ceased. "You are a naïve fool. Zey vould kill us, and strip you down for parts," he said. "Zey have no need for any of us, vhether or not your mozzer is building more synsetics."

He mentally ran over a checklist. He needed to find a ship suitable for escape, sabotage the others, make sure he got Mariah and the synthetics on that ship, board the ship, leave, evade capture, and find a safe place to hide until he could get Mariah real help. Or… he looked to the small creatures clustered around him. No. She had all the help she needed right here. These creatures _cared _for her.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. No. Now was not the time. Goodness knew he had enough work to do. "Do you need anysing more from me, until we meet to escape?"

"You have not met the geth, nor put them in such a situation; you would not know what they would do." The synthetic dismissed his claim and insult calmly. Organics were so excitable. "We wish to keep the brain here; it is the safest place for us to work in secret. Simply do not touch the pieces."

"I have no intention of doing such," he said, shaking his head. He would need to have a stern talking-to to these machines before he eventually parted ways with them. He couldn't have them annoying the geth and spurring them to descend beyond the Veil long enough to destroy Mariah and her children.

"I am sending you my inbox number. You may message my Omni-tool. I can also send a battle drone to your coordinates if you need one. But it has been a long time since I have used Seyish, so! She might be a bit rusty. Do not rely on her too much."

He nodded to the machines. "How long do you need before I unleash electronic hell upon zis place?"

There was a short silence. "A day. We do not have Mother's... intuition when it comes to building and modifying synthetics, but we will be able to make it work."

"I will hack into the _Traverse Traveller_," the other added. "This will make it significantly easier for you to commandeer it."

Another short silence.

"You speak of the drone as if it is intelligent, and female. Why do you hate artificial intelligence so much if you personify an unthinking drone?"

"I personify the drone," Ahera replied testily, "because I am lonely and it is all I have."

He shook his head at them.

"Ve cannot wait a day. They vill move her within hours! Find a vay to sneak onto the ship, safely deposit ze brain, remove any existing hostile forces, and see to it that Mariah and the body are aboard. You have sree hours. That is as much time as I can give you. I vill ask zat you vait for me, but… if I cannot make it in sree hours, you must go."

He lowered his helmet slightly. "Can you do zat for me?"

There was yet another short silence.

"We cannot finish the brain in that short of a time without damaging it. What do you propose?"

"Put it somevhere safe." He looked about. "Hmm. Some kind of lockbox—here." He knelt under his bed and dug out his few possessions, opening and upturning and empty toolbox. The interior was full of fitted foam. "It's not ze best, but it vill provide some measure of protection." It was a little large for them to carry, of course…

"I vill understand if you say no, but if you like, I vill carry zis vis me, and bring it to you vonce I have secured our safe passage."

The robots considered this for a few milliseconds. They, simply put, did not trust the quarian to handle the brain with the care it deserved. What if the pieces of foam got stuck in the machine? What if he rattled it about by accident?

They had no choice.

"Cushion it securely. We will follow Mother, and give you the coordinates in three hours."

Gingerly, first the small one, then the larger one, skittered over to place the pieces of positronic brain in the lockbox.

Ahera was shocked, but he held the case steady as they loaded it, occasional pointing to ways they could position the foam pieces. "I know vhat zis means to you. He is your brozzer," he added softly. "I vill be careful." He turned and began to gather his belongings. He didn't have much, but he packed them securely in a backpack.

He pulled a piece of beautifully-embroidered cloth out from between his sheets and wound it awound the case before he stuffed that in, too.

He turned and nodded. "I vill offer vhat support I can. I vill then make my way to ze shuttle. It might get dangerous in zhere, so be prepared. Call Seyish if you need her." He raised his hand and said, "Keelah se'lai."

"Indeed," the talkative one replied, and they moved over to the vent, waiting for him to pick them up and place them inside. Though they were based off long-legged jumping spiders, their leaping ability was more horizontal than vertical.

Ahera almost left before he noticed them. "Oh." His dramatic moment sufficiently ruined, he reached out and, cringing, helped them into the vent, shuddering once the deed was done. Ugh. Bugs!

With that he turned and left, trotting down the hall. His Omni-tool flared and he immediately got to work.

The robots were faced with an interesting task. Between circumventing the blocked vents and dodging security looking for them, it would take them roughly at hour to reach the docking bay. Mariah was already loaded up on their ship of choice.

It was only natural they'd choose the nicest ship, and that was the one belonging to the men who wanted to take Mariah away. They had left a security detail behind. Because of the disturbance, it was a considerable one.

If they had not been a facility for mentally ill patients, they might have hit a roadblock there, but shortly after they arrived, the automatic defense systems malfunctioned. The room was flooded with a sedative gas. Because the vents were blocked, it was highly concentrated, and would take a while to vent. Alarms began to sound. The robots were given a clear shot to the shuttle, courtesy of their wayward quarian agent.

Shortly after that, the docking bays locked down. It was a temporary fix—eventually the crews would get in, but it would hold them off for a while.

Ahera was crouched in one of the security booths. He'd surprised the guard, snatching his own stunner and zapping him with it while he hacked the system.

One by one he began to take control of the lesser functions of the facility with the practiced ease of someone who had done such before. Subtly, slowly, but surely, the computers began to bend to his will. For now, he kept things running smoothly. There was no reason to suspect that anyone was in the system.

Back at the docking bay, the robots were faced with the task of making sure the ship was ready to go. They would have to get it ready to fly, and they would have to get it to take off, which meant one of them was going to have to actually pilot the thing. The ships onboard computer would do most of the work, so the hardest part would be arranging the link.

In the booth, Ahera pulled up security cams as his hacking program worked itself up to the computers linked to the ships in the shipyard. Bingo! It was no good escaping if they had someone on their tail. He began to systematically disable each ship's computer, uploading a worm into the system that would eat away at the navigational controls over the course of two hours.

The ships would start to give chase, only to become stranded in the middle of it. Before he left, he established a wireless link with the _Traverse Traveller_'s comm systems and his suit's built-in speaker. "I vill be zere shortly. Hold on!"

By now, two hours and fifteen minutes had passed. The level of activity in the facility had reached a frenzy. He left the booth and bolted, making for the service tunnels. They were small, and cramped, but he was a quarian, and he was used to tight spaces. They couldn't get him in the cargo room, but they could give him a route close. He was running out of time, though.

Halfway there, he gave the order from his Omni-tool, and sent the facility's main computer berserk. That should distract them. He reached the service tunnel's end and made a break for the cargo room. He waved his Omni-tool and the doors that the techs had been trying to burn through suddenly opened up. They blinked, stunned.

Suddenly a glowing battle drone was in their midst, zapping away. Startled, they fired, and as it vanished, it released a sizeable explosion that knocked a few off their feet. Ahera had timed his approach carefully. He skidded around the corner at that precise moment and leapt through the panic, past them and into the still-hazy interior of the cargo bay.

"Stop that quarian!"

"Open the lower hatch!" Ahera shouted into the wireless comm. "Be ready to take off on my mark!"

Bullets zipped through the air. He sprinted towards the ship.

The robots had it easy compared to Ahera. Not only were they small and adept at hiding, Security had no idea how intelligent they were—they had not yet grasped that the two were fully sentient, preferring not to believe that Mariah would dare complete a fully-functional AI.

They had apparently never caught the attention of their government. If they had, Mariah would have been shipped to a real institution long ago and none of this would have ever happened. She would have withered away and died.

As it were, her constructions filled the ship with life, the engines starting to rumble. Outside, people scrambled to and fro in confusion and panic.

The hatch opened.

Ahera ducked his head down as the guards continued to open fire. The hatch was open. He'd never seen a more welcome sight in his life. He sprinted, heart pounding, breath harsh against the inside of his helmet, shields stuttering, and he _almost _made it to the hatch.

His luck couldn't last forever, though. With a final hiss, his shields died, and an instant later a blast from a shotgun, against all odds, managed to catch him upper leg.


	4. Chapter 4

Combined with momentum, the blast knocked him flat, and he skidded across the floor. His leg had been flayed open, his knee absolutely shattered. His body began to tremble with shock. There was no pain. _I've been shot,_ he thought. _That is not good._

The guards were running across the docking bay towards him. He tried to stand, but his leg wouldn't obey him. He couldn't even move it. He began to drag himself the last few feet towards the hatch. The guards were thirty feet away and advancing. _It should hurt. It doesn't,_ he thought. _That is also not good…_

He pulled himself over the threshold, and absurdly, the moment he hit the floor, his numbed nerve endings chose that moment to alert him of the leg situation. He screamed. The guards were seven feet away. He tried desperately to gather his breath. "Close… ze hatch," he panted. He was having trouble focusing. The guards were close, lunging for the door…

The hatch hissed closed, a few inches away from his uninjured foot. The ship began to lift away. The guards made it to the side of the vessel, banging fruitlessly on the hull as it gained altitude.

For Ahera, there was a long, pain-filled silence. Then a small tapping noise alerted him to the approach of one of the spiders.

"You are injured," it said calmly.

The smaller of the two gazed down―well, down was a relative word; they were about eye-to-eye now (if it had eyes, that is) and tapped the side of his head. No answer. Well. This was a dilemma. Quarians could not survive long out of their suit, especially so wounded and away from the Flotilla.

Would the rest of the quarians help him? Ahera had once said he was no longer welcome there. But if they did not know his name, only that he was injured, perhaps they could ask a small vessel to privately take care of him.

Their first issue, however, was getting Mother to safety. But Mother cared for this creature, no matter how much it had, as she would say, fucked up with the machine.

Best to wake her. Yes, Mother would know what to do.

This took about three milliseconds before the small synthetic spoke again. "Are you lucid?"

Ahera did not try to stand again. When the creature approached, he opened his eyes. He hadn't realized that he'd closed them. Pain was his world now. It had him in its jaws. He throbbed with it. "Ngh." Was his reply before he shivered and finally passed out.

"Apparently not," the robot mused to itself. Even as young as it was, living with Mariah had given it personality. She had not tried to suppress it, but instead nurtured it. Given that, the small creature had personalized tics like musing to itself out loud.

It communicated with its sibling. The larger robot was in charge of hacking and flying the vessel, and seeing as its brain was not built for such a complex function, it was taking all its... willpower... to not reach critical failure and shut down.

There was literally nothing they could do for Ahera. They did not have hands and knew nothing of basic organic care, something they regretted now. They knew quarians were fragile and that even if this had happened to another species, they would need care anyway, but they had not the faintest clue what to do.

Mother knew what to do, but Mother was asleep.

Its sibling spared a function to locate medical supplies. The smaller one skittered away to find them, lugged them back to the quarian, and got to work studying a basic manual for the care of turians (they had the same type of amino acids, so it would be easier then reading something on human care) it found on the extranet.

Being a robot, it took seconds to memorize what could take an organic days or weeks. Taking out antibiotic salve and generously smearing it on its underbelly, the spider got to work.

The ship made a beeline for the nearest Mass Relay.

Medi-gel was a wonder drug. Not only did it stimulate healing, but it disinfected the wound and provided a basic analgesic. The fact that the robots worked quickly was the only thing that kept the quarian from contracting a serious disease. He would still undoubtedly be sick, but he'd taken another step further from certain death.

He woke about an hour later. Immediately he tried to move. While the medi-gel dulled most of the pain, by this time it had mostly worn off. Agony shot through him. "Keelah!" He collapsed again, panting raggedly and gritting his teeth against the pain. He twisted to try and look down at his leg.

It was covered with a heavy blanket, which was tucked laboriously around and under that was a generous layer of medi-gel. The robot could not utilize the bandages, though they lay in a neat pile next to him. Though Ahera could not feel it, the arteries had been sewed shut and pieces of flesh were carefully put in place over them. Ahera would never use his leg again unless he was grown a new one (or used a prosthetic one).

The robot was not to be found. It was, at present, trying to calm Mariah down and cut her loose from the restraints which, while cloth, were strong enough to resist the rough sawing and pulling of the robot's legs.

Mariah was pretty groggy still, but not enough to keep her rampant compulsion at bay, and could only think of working.

It was another hour before she was able to tear the rest of them off, and got up, casting around for tools or at least paper to draw on, and the robot on her shoulder coaxed her out of the room and down the hall to the other side of the ship where Ahera lay.

She stopped in front of him.

"What happened?" she barked.

"He was shot."

"His leg's off!"

"Yes." There was a short silence, and the robot added, "It's just a flesh wound."

Ahera knew better than to touch the wound, or move around too much. He rested back against the floor and closed his eyes, trying to mentally block out the pain. The bleeding had stopped. That was good. They'd also dressed the wound. He was still terrified that it had been too late, and that he would contract some kin of horrible disease, but there was, sadly, nothing he could do about it.

He eventually decided that something needed to be done. He tried to pull himself away from where he'd fallen, but the jolt of moving forward wrung a startled cry out of him, and he passed out again.

He was semi-conscious when Mariah and the robot came to him at last. He twitched. "I have felt bezzer," he murmured. "_Keelah,_ zis is not fun."

Mariah was staring at the robot. "_What_?" she said.

"It is from a movie called―"

"I know what it's called! Did you just make a _joke_?"

"If that is what it is qualified as."

Mariah shook her head, knelt down, and carefully unwrapped Ahera's leg with shaking hands. Ew. "This leg," she announced, "I think, will have to come off."

"Yes."

"Where are we headed?"

"We are not sure. We have been deliberating quarian space."

"Oh?"

"They are the only ones qualified to help him."

"Hm." Mariah considered Ahera for a moment, then wrapped the leg back up and snapped, "Ahera! Wake up! We need to get you to the medical bay."

"I'm awake," Ahera said quietly. He was holding his voice steady with an effort. He had heard what they said about his leg, and he was forced to agree. Keelah, he was going to lose his leg. His leg! But it would be for the best. The wound might fester, and that would be the end of him.

He swallowed hard. "My ozzer leg is fine, but… you said quarian space. Zey vill not help me. It vould be a vaste of time."

"What? Why not?" Mariah began to pace, forced herself to stop, and shakily bent down to grab his arm. "I thought they're a close-knit race. You're going to have to help me, here."

She pulled.

Ahera tried to get his good leg underneath him, gave a short bark of pain, and scrabbled at her shoulders, pulling himself up, clinging to her. He was only slightly larger than her, being a quarian, and not very heavy. It was a moment before he could catch his break to speak, and when he did, his voice was tense with pain.

"I am… an _exile._ I do not exist to zem any longer. It is a punishment," He shook. "Keelah, please hurry; I-I can't…"

"Exile?" Mariah began to drag him. Her rampant OCD and need to go _do _something, get some goddamn _work _done, made her rougher than need be, though she tried to gentle her motions. "What, are you a murderer?"

Ahera tried to bear the rough treatment in silence, digging his fingers into her shoulders instead, but it was getting harder and harder for him to concentrate. "I—no. Long story. It is not—I can't—" in his struggle to keep up with her, he accidentally twisted his body so that his injured leg became trapped between them, and he screamed.

It was a horrible piercing shriek that lanced easily through his helmet.

Then he went limp against her, once again unconscious.

Mariah jerked at his scream and almost dropped him. She scrambled to hold onto him while he collapsed, and ended up dragging him roughly until she did drop him. Exasperated she found a blanket, spread it on the floor and dragged him onto it. The reduced friction made it easier for her to pull him, once she got enough momentum, down the hall towards the sickbay. Even so, it was a long, hard process, one that she nearly gave up a few times. Butler, tapping quietly along beside the prone alien, kept up a constant murmur of encouragement to keep her going.

She dressed his wound as best she could, sealed his suit as per her shoulder-spider's hacking ability, and was forced to amputate his lower leg. There was no way they would be welcome at any reputable place that had the type of technology to fix it, and it would just rot off and die anyway.

Not that it wouldn't anyway. She was a VI-AI specialist, not a doctor, and even with Butler's step-by-step directions and assistance it was shoddy work. But it was a challenge, and satiated her burning desire for work so that she kept at it. Tendons were like wires. Arteries like fluid-filled tubes. Muscles and ligaments like pulleys. Simple, slightly ineffective machinery, but machinery nonetheless.

She placed a sterilization field around him, hooked him up to IV and a constant channel of antibiotics, and left him to curl up in a corner for a while before finding a place to set up shop.

Since Ahera had expressly declined going to the Migrant Fleet—they had no reason to disbelieve him when he said they wouldn't take care of him—they deliberated at the Mass Relay for a while before heading to the Traverse.

Beyond that was geth space.

Mariah continued to work.

* * *

><p>Ahera woke. He was not a happy quarian. He had no idea how long he'd been out of it. He tried to sit up and openly whimpered at the pain associated with the gesture. Blinking he looked down, and his spine stiffened in horror.<p>

Oh. Well, there it was. Or, rather, there it _wasn't—_his leg was gone. He swallowed heavily, feeling his stomach sink, as if someone had dropped a stone through the bottom.

He was in fantastic amounts of pain, and his skin felt tender and feverish. He was sick, but at least he had antibiotics in his system. He silently thanked his caretaker for that. He settled back against the bed and closed his eyes, tried to block it out, tried to sleep, but he couldn't.

Eventually he gritted his teeth and did sit up. He carefully scooted to the edge of the bed and, supporting himself on the bed-frame, stood on his remaining leg. A steady stream of soft curses flowed from his helmet as he reached over and slapped the wall display, opening shipwide communications. The tubes connected to his suit, the needles driven into his skin, stretched at the strain of his movement. "Miss Mariah?" He rasped. His throat was dry, his voice hoarse. He began to shake. "Are you zere?"

In her designated working area, Mariah was hunched over the steadily-growing pieces of her robot's brain. At his voice she stiffened, scowling, and looked up. "I'm working. Are you up? You shouldn't be up. Stay in bed, if you're not. We're heading somewhere we think they'll help." She bent over her project for a moment before looking up again. "If they don't, I'll make you a cybernetic limb."

She might have to make her _own _cybernetic limb. Damn it, her hands shook way too much...

Now that he had the comm link open, he clambered painfully, slowly, back into the bed, gritting his teeth. Keelah, he would give his other leg for some decent painkillers right about now… "I… I vill be fine if you drop me off… on Omega."

He settled back against the mattress and closed his eyes. It was a few moments before he could speak, and when he did, his voice was strained. "I have… I have a friend there. A doctor. She vill help. I need her, I need a doctor. She used to live vis my people… long, long ago. She knows our medicines."

He took a deep breath before insisting again, "She vill help me."

It was never a good idea to drop anyone off on Omega, much less a quarian delirious with fever and pain, but Ahera seemed insistent.

"No," Mariah replied irritably. "I'm in the middle of work, I've been to Omega before and it's not a good place to be, and we're already halfway through the Mass Relay. There's no way to turn back and we don't have the fuel. Now shut up and let me work."

"Please," he whispered once, but that was all the strength he had to say. His head lolled sideways on the pillow (he couldn't lay directly back because of the wires connected to the back of his helmet). He might have asked where they were going if he was in the right state of mind, but he most certainly was not.

He took a few deep, shuddering breaths, and managed out, "I need… a doctor."

"Yes, yes, I know." Mariah sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. They were halfway through the Relay, and it was never a good idea to drop out early—who knows where you'd end up. But they were going into geth space, and since it was so dangerous, they might as well go in fully ready for anything.

Hm.

They were also almost out of fuel. If they turned around, they'd run out for sure... but there was a refuel station near there. Besides, going through the relay took little to no fuel. If they simply stopped at the other side and went back through, they might be okay.

And she didn't want Ahera to die.

"Fine."

"Sank you." The reply was so soft that Mariah barely even heard it. Ahera closed his eyes and tried to block it all out, and eventually he fell asleep again.

He was utterly helpless, not only as far as the ship and their destination were concerned, but also as far as moving around. He woke up partway to Omega. He was thirsty. He was horribly thirsty. He had packed a little food and purified water in his backpack, but Mariah had that.

Once again he struggled over to the comm panel, and weakly requested that she bring him his satchel.

Her spider brought it, lugging it along behind it using two feet. Mariah had promised him a bigger body, but after her _a trevora_ (she had taken to the name) was finished, and the other spider needed a more complex brain in order to deal with the ship.

The synthetic brought it to the floor at the side of the bed, and in its flat, robotic voice, urged him to get it as it could not bring it up to his level.

Ahera managed to do so, with effort, straining and shaking. Every little nudge sent his pain screaming through his body, but for water, it was worth it. He thanked the spider quietly and, after a few tries (his hands were shaking) managed to hook up the water pouch and slowly, with great willpower, sipped it down instead of gulping it. He couldn't afford to retch now.

He was a little hungry, but he was afraid to eat anything, so after drinking half of it he just collapsed again. He didn't wake again until they came to Omega. He pulled himself upright. He was tired now, and groggy. The pain was insistent, but his rising fever had drawn a fog over his mind that made it seem somehow far away.

He opened his Omni-tool. After checking their coordinates, he dragged himself to the panel again. "I have her comm number. Sending it to ze ship's registry. Call her. Tell her I'm here. She vill make a house call for me."

It was done immediately after a word from Mariah; the ship sent out a message urging whoever-it-was to get down here _right away; _a friend of hers named Ahera was in dire need of her attentions.

The shoulder-spider, ever willing to run errands, waited patiently for her at the docking bay. No one knew it was an AI; everyone assumed it was just a mech. This prompted some people to try to scoop it up and carry it off, but it was easy to dodge their hands.

It didn't take long for Ahera's contact to come. She arrived in the docking bay with a duffel bag. The crowd gave her a wide berth. She'd been on this station a long time, and many of the underground elements of the station knew her. She had no allegiances. She was merely a doctor.

She was a tall asari, clearly in the middle to latter part of her Matron stage. Her skin was dark, and her eyes half-hooded, as if the weight of her years were trying to force them shut, but the eyes underneath were bright and green.

She stood outside of the vessel, observing it for a moment, apparently unsure she had the right ship. It was a slick, state-of-the-art cruiser, built for speed. She couldn't imagine Ahera in a place like that.

A young human man was accompanying her, carrying an old-fashioned medical case—her nurse. He nudged her. "Uh, I think they got…" he nodded to the spider.

"Is a quarian by the name of Ahera'Lorrz on this vessel?" She asked. Her voice was soft, and had once been melodious, but was now growing husky with age, and it lent her a decidedly grandmotherish air.

The spider cocked its head up at her. It studied her, then turned to skitter towards the vessel. "Yes. Please follow me, ma'am."

It lead her through the ship up to the medical bay, where it leapt lightly onto the table where the quarian lay and settled by his head. "He has been very sick," it supplied. "Temperature alternating from six degrees below average to four above. Blood pressure raises and lowers from two hundred and sixty-seven over one hundred eighty to seventy-four over one hundred eighty. He is delirious."

The asari was quietly horrified at the sight of her friend, lying on the bed, mutilated and half-dead with fever. She said nothing for a moment, stunned by shock, before she nodded and decided to get to work. "Thank you. You have been most helpful." Clearly she had no idea what to think of the little machine, but she took no chances with her manners.

"Doctor Roroge," he rasped.

"Please, do no talk, Ahera."

"Heh, vat vas it you used to tell me? Biting of more… more zan I can chew?"

Dr. Roroge was hurriedly unpacking her things, quietly instructing her currying human companion. She looked to Ahera briefly and smiled. "Yes."

"Zhis time, it bit me."

"If you are cracking bad jokes, Ahera, then you must be healthier than you look." She leaned forward and carefully slid a syringe into an area of the suit designed for such things. That would shut him up and relax him.

She worked silently, speaking only to her assistant, or to the spider, if it stuck around and spoke to her. She drew a little blood, tested the antibiotics, and began to prepare a mixture of her own. "Run back to the office and bring me both bottles of 36V? He's going to need it."

After about an hour and a half had passed, after which she had checked every inch of his suit, prepared four mixtures, drawn blood twice, checked his heart rate and fever eight times, she finally looked to the spider and asked, "May I speak with the captain of this vessel?"

The little robot gazed at her flatly for a moment.

"No."

The asari tilted her head. "If I may not, then I will take him with me. Ahera'Lorzz is my friend. He is… something like a son to me." She glanced briefly to him. "I do not know what happened to him, but I do not intend to leave until I get some answers, and an assurance that every step will be taken to ensure his continued safety."

The robot was silent for the briefest of moments. Mother surely did not want to be disturbed; she was busy finishing the brain and prepping it for installation. Would she want Ahera to go with this lady? Unlikely. He was useful, if irritating, and he _had _helped them so far.

"Ahera'Lorzz vas Nedas is remaining here."

"If I am given an answer, then you would be correct," Doctor Roroge said calmly.

Ahera was far beyond words at this point, and had nothing to add.

It was about then that the human nurse returned, two bottles of a clear liquid in hand. He blinked. "Everything all right, doc?"

"It will be," the doctor stared evenly at the machine.

"Mother is currently working," it replied. There was no use in staring evenly at it, as it could not be intimidated nor pressured. "She likely does not wish to be disturbed. Ahera'Lorzz vas Nedas has helped us many times, and is useful; therefore he will remain here."

The asari blinked slowly. She looked to Ahera, now sleeping peacefully, and then back to the machine. "Mother?"

Clearly she thought that, up until this point, she had been dealing with some kind of communication device. The fact that she might be speaking with something that was more sophisticated was harder to grasp.

"Hm." She went on, intelligently. "I need to speak with her. Please inform her that I intend to take this quarian, by force if necessary, unless she speaks with me. It is not only about the circumstances of his injuries, but about his continued treatment. I will not leave him in neglectful care."

"He will not be neglected," the robot replied. It considered for a millisecond. Asari were biotic wielders. Refusing further could cause damage to itself or the ship.

"You will be patched through," it allowed.

The other spider, listening in, opened the comm.

"Mother."

"What! What."

"The doctor wishes to speak with you."

"Tell her to go away. I'm working."

"She wishes to remove Ahera'Lorzz vas Nedas from the premises."

"Well, she can't."

The asari's calm exterior cracked. "I will take him unless you pull yourself away from whatever is so thrice-damned important and speak to me about this young man's health.

"He is nearly dead, do you understand that? Three more days and he would have _died._ I do not intend to let him come that close to the brink again if it is in my power to stop it."

Her calm green stare was positively venom now. She glared at nothing, though, for her adversary was nowhere near. The human nurse carefully set down the bottles and began to fidget, glancing left and right nervously. "You have five minutes to get your ass down here before I leave with my patient."

"I don't know you. All I want you to do is fix him and go away. So fix him. I'm working."

The comm shut off. There was a long, tense silence.

The spider looked at the asari, decided it was all right for her to know since she was a doctor and a friend of a friend, and said, "This is why. She has a condition. She has shan'tar. It can leap between a mating couple to humans. Mother cannot mentally tear herself away from her work."

Being a doctor, she had certainly heard of the disease, and for a moment her anger softened visibly on her features. She closed her eyes and sighed. "This… complicates things."

She was quiet for a few moments. "I do not know what you are―some sort of VI, or interface, and frankly I do not want to know. Are you capable of caring for him, if she is unable? He will need regular injections of both this antibiotic cocktail and this pain medicine." She gestured to each bottle as she spoke. "He will need to be monitored for a spike in fever, as well―I have a quarian-approved fever suppressant I intend to leave with him.

"He is a grown man. I can only assume he is on this ship of his own free will, and as a result of his own actions. But if you cannot do these things for him, and do them faithfully, I will take him. I will not let him risk death."

"Yes," the robot replied simply. It did not inform her that it was a fully-functional AI. It did not need to. "We intend on staying here until he is stable, however. If you wish to continue coming here, you are..." it considered its next word carefully. "...Welcome."

Dr. Roroge blinked slowly as she considered. "Good. That is very thoughtful of you," she said with a nod, "Staying in dock, of course. I do not think I have to remind you not to let anyone in but myself. This vessel sticks out a bit. I will check on him regularly. Be sure to give him the pain medicine once every six hours―the injection site is here," she showed the spider where on the suit the needle could be applied.

"The medicine cocktail is to be given every eight hours, and monitor his fever. When it spikes, apply the suppressant. He should be healthy within the week, but his… leg will take longer to heal. I've given you a week's supply of antibiotic and three weeks' supply of pain medicine. Of course, if you need anything further, you may ask when I visit."

She finished up her visit, and, with one last look at Ahera, finally left. She would have to get the story from him, she supposed.

He wasn't in any condition to be telling anyone anything. He was a very, very happy quarian at that point.

It was a long few weeks for Ahera. There was nothing really of note. Mariah worked. The spider watched over Ahera, administering the proper dosages of the different chemicals at exactly the right times. It stayed there at all times, not capable of tiring or getting bored.

As it did so however, it noticed something it had noticed beforehand, when it and its two siblings were collaborating to find their Mother. It was a faint error in its system, one that it was having a hard time diagnosing or repairing. When it was here, watching the quarian, it could only think of what it could do to assist Mother. When they had been tracking her down, all it could do was think of how best to get back to her side.

The other two had had this error as well, though in varying degrees, but as it had not been disturbing their other functions they had let it be. But now, when it was relatively alone and there were no guns going off, it found itself thinking this.

It decided to ask the doctor. She was no expert in synthetics, but she was an organic and a relatively intelligent one at that.

So the next time she showed up, it spoke. "Query," it said.

Ahera, himself, had nothing to complain about. His doctor had doped him out of his mind, and the quarian just lay there more days, sleeping and blinking hazily about the room. When he did speak, he mumbled, didn't make much sense, and often trailed off into soft laughter.

The doctor had to feed him, since he was quite incapable of feeding himself, and maneuvering a bag of processed food was not something that she suspected his synthetic friend would be good at. Dr. Roroge herself had been busy since she had met Ahera's new crew. She'd been sending off for ingredients for something special, and it was nearly complete.

The synthetic's question caught her off-guard. She blinked. "Yes?"

"There is an error in my general runtime systems. I am here at all times, watching Ahera'Lorzz vas Nedas. But while I am here, I... am..." it paused, considering its next words carefully (for at least four point three milliseconds!).

"I cannot think of anything other than how I can best assist Mother with her work," it allowed. "My processes convert their time to the mechanical and mental problems I could possibly alleviate."

It didn't take the asari's aged mind long to sort through his words. She smiled. "You are thinking about your mother, and how you may help her. Well," she shrugged, "among us organics, that is not so abnormal. I can see why it would cause you confusion, though. I do not know why you are experiencing this error, but when we do, it is usually out of love."

"Synthetics do not feel love," the robot replied. It, of course, neglected again to tell her exactly what kind of synthetic it was. It didn't matter anyway. No synthetic felt love.

"That is an organic error."

"Well, you are clearly experiencing one organic error," she replied with amusement in her serene voice, "so perhaps you're on your way to experiencing another." She turned to tend to Ahera for a bit. She helped him sit up and attached a water packet to the underside of his helmet. Blinking languidly, he drank.

"When do you plan to leave Omega? There is something I would like to give your captain before you leave."

"As soon as Ahera'Lorzz vas Nedas is stable," the spider replied.

She nodded. "He will need to take it easy, but he is fit for travel. He will need to be weaned off the medicine over the next week or so. He should not get up until he is fully off his medicine, but until he can get a synthetic attachment, a pair of crutches―"

CLANK.

The loud clank interrupted her speech. She blinked. The robot paused, turned, and said "Excuse me, ma'am," before leaping off the bed and skittering out the door to investigate the noise.

CLANK.

There was a pause in which the spider's voice could be heard speaking quietly, and then a deep bass of a voice filtered down the hallway.

"I am online," it said, and it clanked its way out of the lift and towards the medical bay.

A rather large multi-lensed face curved around the corner through the doorway to stare at the asari doctor and her human companion.

The doctor's reaction to the appearance of the head was to back up, nearly tripping over the bed and sitting on poor Ahera. The quarian blinked groggily, still holding his water pouch, and leaned forward. "Hey! 's… I do not know his name," he confessed. "'S zat guy!"

"Ahera'Lorzz vas Nedas," it intoned, the head coming in further and followed by its mechanical body.

The synethetic looked largely unfinished to the untrained eye, but it was obvious it was quite done except for the outer plates. One could see right into the whirring, blinking cables and wires that served as its body. The only thing that was armored was its head, and it did not open as it spoke, which meant it had speakers elsewhere.

The spider leapt from its shoulder and hopped down. "It seems Mother has finished with _a trevora_."

"Yes. She instructed me to... 'get a feel' for my new body."

The asari considered the creature for a moment, her initial shock wearing off, and decided that, well, she'd honestly seen weirder things during her time on Omega. Her human assistant was decidedly more wary of the giant killer machine walking around, but knew that standing close to the doctor was a (relatively) safe place to be.

"Good t'see zat you… zat you…you vere so _little _before!" Ahera managed, holding a wobbly hand out.

"Nice to meet you, A Trevora," Dr. Roroge said with a polite nod of her head.

"Mother has taken to calling me 'Trevor,' now," the robot replied. It crept in carefully and swung its head to view Ahera. "Many things have passed since I gave my brain to Mother for upgrades."

"I will go see to her now," the spider said, and shot out the door at perhaps a greater velocity than necessary.

Roroge watched it carefully. It seemed genuinely interested in the quarian, and she couldn't sense any aggression in what passed for its body language―of course, that was decidedly difficult for her to decipher. She smiled. "Well, you are good for today, Ahera. Take it easy."

She left, and as she did, Ahera turned his cheerful attention to Trevor. "Your mozzer got ver' mad at me. Ver' mad. I had to put you…" he paused, lost his train of thought, and just blinked dazedly for a few moments. He then added, quietly, "In a box."

Trevor said nothing, merely watched him as he lazed about. It left shortly after that, heading for Mariah's designated workplace (the cargo bay), and the spider reluctantly came down to watch Ahera.

Time ticked by. Days.

Mariah became eager to leave, so the robots prepared for departure. During the doctor's last visit, the spider spoke up.

"I have informed Mother that you wish to speak to her. She has agreed to meet you, but she will not leave her workplace."

The asari nodded. She had come alone this time. She had brought the rest of Ahera's medicine, as well as a pair of crutches for him. She also held a simple bottle half-filled with nondescript white pills. "Oh? I had never expected to be able to meet her face-to-face." She smiled and nodded. "Lead on."

She followed, keeping her eyes on her escort, until they came to the workshop. She didn't expect Mariah to acknowledge her. The woman was in the grip of her disease.

"First, I thank you for doing all you can to help Ahera'Lorrz. Diverting long enough to come here must have been hard. I will simply wish you good-bye, and good luck in whatever it is you're determined to do. Please keep him safe, if you can."

She set the bottle down on a desk beside her, one that was (relatively) bare of spare parts and sketched diagrams. "There is no cure for shan'tar, but there is a drug that can help a little. The ingredients are hard to find and expensive. This was as much medicine as I could prepare for you. Each tablet will give you peace for eight hours. There are twenty-four. I offer you twenty-four quiet evenings, twenty-four good nights' worth of sleep, or twenty-four mornings spent doing what you want to do, rather than what your enslaved mind is telling you. I understand if you do not accept this gift. It is all I can give you, though."

She bowed. "I do not know if we will meet again. Travel in the Footsteps of the Goddess."

"I'm atheist," the woman replied snappishly. She didn't look at the doctor, nor at the pills, just continued working, not giving any indication that she heard the rest of Roroya's speech.

Butler snatched up the pills and trotted over to a small box (ironically, it was the box that had once housed Trevor's brain) and deposited them there. It then skittered to the door. "If you would follow me, ma'am."

As they walked back, the robot suddenly said, "Query."

Dr. Roroge's calm visage didn't even flicker at Mariah's words. She turned and followed Butler off the ship, her thoughts with Ahera. She genuinely wondered if this would be the last time she saw him. Butler's words drew her out of her thoughts, though. "Yes?"

"I am wondering as to how you were able to gather medicine for the shan'tar. According to studies, shan'tar is non-transmissible between species. It is also only a minor inconvenience to asari. However, you were not surprised when I told you the disease. Why is this?"

Dr. Roroga lowered her eyes. "Many years ago, I met a batarian patient with similar symptoms. It took me a full eight months to track down what was happening to him, and why. He was just a normal man for Omega, and he was killed in a firefight twelve years later.

"Not everything that happens is recorded for posterity. Sometimes life is sad and its end is pointless. Nobody cared about this man or his condition. I was able to help him using the same medication."

She turned to him. "But it is only the second case I have seen in my life, and I am very, very old."

"So humans and batarians have the same reactions? Interesting."

They stopped at the med bay.

"We are preparing to depart," it said.

Ahera, since coming down off the higher doses of his medicine, was marginally more lucid, but still very disconnected. He nodded. "Okay. Good night," he said in an admirably serious tone of voice.

And so the ship left Omega, possibly for good.


	5. Chapter 5

After a few more days, Ahera was lucid enough to grow restless, and he was reaching for his crutches, hobbling around long before the doctor had instructed he be mobile. Butler was not the most conversational creature, so he had no-one to hide it to. The loss of his leg had depressed him. Being exiled had been a low point for him, but being exiled and maimed for life topped that one.

He should have stayed, he knew. He should have asked the doctor to take him away. He knew Mariah didn't give a flying fuck about him (it was incorrect, but it didn't stop him from "knowing" it), but she was (sadly) the closest thing he had to a friend now. He would rather cling to her than be all alone.

He struggled with learning to walk again in silence. It was many days before he could move around freely enough to see her, and when he did eventually hobble into her workshop, he looked around. "You've been very busy," he commented, swinging himself into the room. "Hmm. You seem to have trouble sticking to von project, eh? I see many machines here, all of zem incomplete!"

"Lots of projects. Small projects. All of them complete," Mariah replied. Glancing up, she pointed to a pair of machine hands. "Those are mine. Figuring out how to install them." She pointed to a few various pieces. "What I'm working on now. Pieces to that rather adept dog of mine... excuse me, robot—heh, rather adept dog. Heh. What was I saying?"

"To be honest, miss, I have no idea," he replied. He smiled a little. She might be cold and indifferent, but he could get used to that. "Anyvay, now zat I can talk wizzout bursting into uncontrollable laughter, I must ask—vhere are ve going? Because if you give me some time to prepare, I might know some people at our next destination. Zey can help us vith supplies, parts…" he started to shrug, nearly lost one of his crutches, and hastily aborted the gesture. "You name it."

"No. We're heading to the Traverse," she said, picking up what looked like to be the head of something and opening the jaw. "Past the Veil. Geth space."

Out of instinct, Ahera tried to step towards her with a foot that was no longer there and fell on the floor. It hurt. Like hell. But, to his credit, he merely grunted, scrambling for his crutches, missing them entirely, and eventually hauled himself upright using a table. "You—I—**VHAT!"** He roared.

"Ve cannot go zere, ve vill be killed! Are you crazy?" Using the tables for support, he made his way closer to her. "No, you vill turn zhis ship around, and you vill do it _now!"_

"No," Mariah replied, quite calmly. She wasn't afraid of Ahera anymore. Hell, he couldn't even stand up! "Pick yourself up and stop being stupid. If you wanted to get off this ship you should have left at Omega."

Trevor, an ever silent guardian behind them, turned its head towards Ahera. Now that it was enormous, it could simply pick him up and deposit him outside if he kept up the ruckus.

The shoulder-spider also turned, staring at the quarian blankly.

Ahera was irritated now. "Unless you didn't notice, I vas delirious vith fever vhen ve arrived, and I vas not exactly in control of my facilities vhen ve left!" He was breathing heavily now, the sound amplified by his suit's filter. "You vill get us killed. _All_ of us. I have told you before about ze gess; vhy von't you _listen _to me? You are human! You know nozzing about zem! My people _created_ zhem!"

"I know," Mariah said quietly. With great effort, she turned her head, pausing in her motions. "They were your children. And you tried to kill them."

"Zhe gess vere a mistake," he said dismissively. "Do not compare zem to your creations. And even if my ancestors vere wrong, I do not deserve to die for zheir sins." His eyes were pale narrow slits in his face. He was very, very upset. After a moment, he added, a touch less angrily. "And neizer do you. Just turn zhis ship around, Mariah. Ve vill find ozzer places to hide."

"No," Mariah replied again. Her shoulders hunched. She, too, was upset. She couldn't believe Ahera's callous dismissiveness towards his people's children. It left a pit in her stomach.

"Get out," she said quietly. Her hands bunched into shaking fists.

She considered for a brief moment taking one of the pills, just to make a decision without the bias. But once the eight hours were over, she would be back to her "normal" self, and she would make the decision to go into geth space again.

Trevor moved forward and put its head between them, glowing lenses staring at both of them.

Ahera didn't leave, partially because he couldn't get to his crutches, but mostly (he liked to think) because he wasn't going to leave this argument unfinished. "No," he said simply. About this time, Trevor came between them, and he leaned to see her around the machine's bulk and went right on talking.

"I don't care if you are angry vith me, you are about to get us killed. You are going to kill me, and yourself, and your children! Listen to me, you bosh'tet! _Turn zis ship around!"_

Mariah didn't bother answering, because at that point Trevor picked Ahera up with one hand, walked to the door, and deposited him outside. After a moment, it gave him his crutches.

"Mother said no," it told him flatly.

Ahera was too stunned to fight back. He only tried to scrabble to his feet (well, foot) once Trevor had gone back inside, trying to pull himself up with the wall and failing. Each time he hit the ground, a jolt of pain sizzled through him, but he was too angry to care. When Trevor brought him his crutches, he pulled himself up, trying to regain what dignity he'd lost, but he was still shaking with rage.

He took a deep, shaky breath. "I do not blame you, Trevor. You do not know bezzer." And with that he turned and hobbled away. He had found a small room near the engineering section, a close, compact little place that he'd taken as his own. He went there, and sat on his bed, and contemplated his fate.

Well. It would be a long time before they reached their destination, anyway. He might as well do something productive, and he couldn't even walk around as it was. He did not come out of his room that night. The next day, he hobbled about the ship with a sense of purpose.

It was another thing to wrest control of the ship. The other robot, the one who had planned their escape, had integrated itself well. Ahera tried every trick in the book to get past it and wrest control of the ship, but the artificial intelligence was faster and smarter than he was. Still, he kept it busy, at least unless someone interrupted his work, before he finally gave up. So that was it, then.

A combination of the remaining meds and his hopeless situation kept the quarian in bed for the next two days. There was nothing he could do. He would just have to wait for the end. But, by the beginning of the third day, he was hopelessly bored. Being bored was worse than being depressed. So he went on a hunt.

He examined what was left of the cargo hold. Unnecessary ship components. Odds were, Mariah had already taken everything worth taking, but he could work with little. Eventually he called for Butler. As soon as the small creature answered the summons, he asked, "Is zere anything miss Mariah has srown out? Any parts she does not need or cannot use?"

Butler quite liked its new name. Apparently Mariah liked it too, for she began calling it that as well.

That said, it did not like being away from Mother, but in order to keep Ahera occupied it was sent to investigate what the man wanted.

"Thrown out, no," it said. "But there are some I may be able to scavenge. Anything you are thinking of specifically?"

"Long parts. I need to make a replacement." he gestured to the truncated stump of his leg. It ended halfway to his knee. "I am tired of hobbling around zis ship. Being an invalid does not suit me. So! I vill remedy zat before we go hurtling to our deaths. At least I vill die vith two legs. Vell? You sink it can be helped?" Despite the fact that Butler was an AI, and the fact that it was a horrible disgusting bug-thing, it was starting to grow on Ahera.

The fact that Ahera was referring to Butler as a "he" and not an "it" was a good sign, but Butler did not know this and so did not respond to it. "Yes. The parts you are referring to are not complex. Unless you wish to have one connected solely to your nervous system, and capable of flexing toes and the minute muscles of the foot, it should be simple to create. Will that be all?"

"Oh, no, I vill control it vith my Omni-tool. It should not be hard to virelessly link my implants to my Omni-tool, and zhen to certain functions of zhe leg. Getting zhe software vill be easy. Zhere are personal terminals installed in zhe rooms; I can take zose. Getting zhe actual parts vill be harder." He nodded to Butler. "If you vould virelessly transmit zheir coordinates to my Omni-tool, I vill go by and gazzer zem." He might be missing a leg, but he could still transport them easier than Butler could.

In the meantime, though… "I vill be moving about. So! Do not look for me here." He had a little something to take care of.

He hobbled off to find Mariah.

She hadn't left her workshop. Unless she had given standing orders not to let him inside, he swung himself over to her position, stopping a few feet behind her. "Miss," he began, a touch awkwardly, "I am sorry I lost my temper at you. Not for vhat I said, but… vell. I should not have yelled."

He didn't hesitate before he added, "Now, have you been eating properly? It does not look like you have!"

Truth be told, his reaction had been a normal one, and he knew it. But his apology was still sincere. He was still sorry he had done it, because now she was angry with him, and he was desperate not to be alone.

It didn't matter what he had to do to keep her company, he would do it. Humiliation, pain, and neglect wouldn't drive him away. Whatever he went through would be preferable to being alone.

"You yell all the time," she said dismissively, glancing at him. "Hit me, too."

"He will not hit you and live," Trevor said, still silently behind them.

"You will not hurt him."

"...Of course not, Mother."

Mariah glanced at him again. "Food? Eh, Butler brings me food. I usually get nutrients from that, though," she pointed briefly at an IV line, currently detached. "Water and that is all I need, really."

She hesitated before adding, "Will you work with me?"

"I only hit you vhen you _deserve_ it," he added sharply, and immediately regretted his words. The conversation between her and Trevor piqued his interest, though, and he cocked his head. Hm. That was… interesting. He hadn't expected that. Maybe he should have? She had, after all, stopped on Omega for him. She had at least tried to save his life.

Her offer made him perk up even more. "Sure," he hobbled over as best as he could. It would be difficult for him to work and hold himself up, but he would give it a shot. It would be the first social activity he would be able to engage in since he'd been injured. "Butler is looking into somesing for me, zough, so I might have to leave. Vhat do you need help vith?"

"Those." She pointed towards the hands. "I haven't been able to utilize them, my hands are shaking so bad. And I don't have anyone to help install them. I don't have an omni-tool, so I'll be connecting them to my nervous system, and the programs I need will negate the shaking so it doesn't transfer over to them."

He glanced briefly to her, concerned about the whole "integrating machines into the nervous system," but didn't say anything for the moment. Instead, following her lead, he worked. He had to struggle to keep his balance, shifting his weight and eventually leaning against the table. Once, he fell, but managed not to knock anything else down with him, his pride wounded more than his body.

Eventually he said, "You plan on implanting yourself, zhen?" He was typing at his Omni-tool and not looking up.

"Yes. I want to be able to work and not have my hands shake all the damn time. You know, there are chairs you can use." She nodded to Trevor, who reached over, grabbed one, and placed it behind the quarian. "I brought them down from the conference room upstairs."

She worked a little longer before adding quietly, "My memory is failing."

"Mm. I can help you vis zat. I, myself, have several. Zhey are designed, of course, only for survival purposes, to boost my immune system and keep me from dying, but zhere is common ground I can help you vis. So! I vill help you install zhem." At the offer of the chair, he hesitated, and then sat.

Her news brought him right up again, clutching the table for support. "You… you are losing your memory?" The prospect wrenched at his gut. Aside from his almost compulsive need for company, he really did like Mariah. She was odd, but there was a good woman down there, and to see her eaten alive by this disease… "How… how bad is it?"

"Not bad," she assured him, though she didn't look up. "But... a scan in the med bay showed definite degration." She hesitated. "It's very slow," she reiterated. "Not bad now. It won't be bad for a long time. But by then, I hope to implant... memory cards."

Ahera hung his head. She would forget him before long, and he would be alone again, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that she was going to lose herself, and there was really very little she could do about it without warping herself into some kind of… pseudo-machine. She didn't deserve that.

_Of course, _his pessimistic side reminded him, _you'll both die as soon as you enter geth space. _

He took a deep breath. Maybe they only had a few weeks left to live, but he would help her during them. "Just tell me vhat you need. I'm smarter zhan you might sink." He leaned over and nudged her, hoping maybe to inject a little cheer in her manner. "Between zhe two of us, ve'll vhip zis sing."

Trevor looked sharply at him (or as sharply as he could, anyway), but made no move or comment.

Mariah smiled. It was small and almost unnoticeable, but it was a smile. "Yes, I suppose."

They were interrupted by Butler skittering towards them. "Mr. Ahera, I have gathered some parts that may meet to your specifications." It clambered up the chair to perch on Mariah's shoulder.

Ahera did not miss the smile. He smiled back, but of course there was no way for her to see it under his helmet. He looked back at the table, glanced to her sidelong, and looked as if he were about to speak when Butler returned.

"Ah! Sank you," he reached for his crutch and hauled himself to his feet. "I have done all I can for zese pieces you have left me here. Is zere anysing else I can do to help speed your progress?" He knew how important preserving Mariah's mind went, and that came way before the restoration of his lost limb. He would wait, if he needed to.

"No, all set," Mariah replied, giving him a faint nod. "Go do your... thing."

She went back to work. Trevor stared at him impassively until Ahera left, though it did not need to turn its head to do so. Since it had not spent all that time planning and rescuing Mariah, it did not have the same level as trust as the others did.

Ahera did. He wasn't anywhere close to getting a serviceable limb in the first day. He reported to Mariah's workshop daily, helping her with her tasks first. His was really just a matter of convenience.

As it turned out, he simply didn't have the resources to make a leg as sophisticated as was necessary for him to move with ease.

His odd leg configuration was difficult to engineer, and the extent of the loss made a simple "peg-leg" unfeasible. In the end, he had to give up. He simply didn't have the resources. Still, it had been a learning experience, and he was getting better at the crutches.

He hobbled into the workshop at the end of the first week. "So, how is it coming?" He paused, eyeing her. "I sink perhaps you should eat a bit of real food vonce in a vhile." She seemed to be losing weight, which worried Ahera. She was already wasting away mentally; he didn't need her to disappear physically, too.

"I try to tell her such," Trevor said.

"You all do. It's annoying," Mariah muttered.

"You are approximately eighty-nine percent of your original body weight," Butler piped up from her shoulder. "It is most unhealthy for an organic of your stature."

"All right! All right, food." Mariah sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Something... bland."

"I am unaware as to what bland may taste like. Could you be more specific?"

"Ugh, just... not..." she realized she was fighting a losing battle with describing taste to a robot and looked up at Ahera. "You know what I mean."

Ahera found the little conversation amusing, and it was obvious in his voice, if not his face. "Mm, I don't know. Your food is very different from my food. Somesing zat tastes bland to me might be horribly bitter to you, after all." He was teasing a little, perhaps, but it was nice to at least be able to pretend they were having an almost-normal conversation.

"Ve'll do it togezzer. Butler, you vill help me wiz zis? I am unavare vat humans commonly eat…"

Between the two of them, they managed a ham and cheese sandwich. The vessel had a lot of food frozen in a special cryo-state, so the hardest part was figuring out how to thaw the packages.

Ahera returned to Mariah, distinctly proud of his efforts. Preparing a meal for an alien was difficult enough without the whole "one leg" problem.

"Sviss cheese. Ve put it togezzer ourselves."

Mariah looked at him blankly for a minute, to Butler, to the sandwich, and back up at him. Then she grinned lopsidedly and took the sandwich. "All right," she allowed.

It was hard to work and eat at the same time, so she alternated between eating and taking notes (though she did take it in slowly, as Butler reprimanded her for eating to fast: doing so after not properly eating for a long time could bring an upset stomach).

It was a quiet victory for the robot and the quarian. Butler said nothing, however, merely continued to assist her with her robotic hands. The hands themselves were finished, but Mariah had decided that it would be hard to simply chop off her hands and put them on, and so added on mechanical tendons.

She had no idea how they were going to install them without killing her. Ahera was no doctor, and none of the robots had the hands to do so.

_In time, _she thought. _In time._

But soon.

Ahera watched her eat enviously, but under his helmet it was impossible to see his expression, and he said nothing. What he would give to feel the simple kinesthetic pleasure of chewing one's food once again! He pushed such thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on the task at hand.

Before he left, he addressed the problem of her robotic hands. They were clearly going to have to wait until they found someone who could help her install them. He was reminded again of their one-way trip to geth space, sighed sadly, and shook his head. "But. Vell. I sink I should be getting some sleep now. Make sure she goes to bed at a decent hour, yes, Butler?" He asked, his tone mock-conspiratorial.

Butler tilted its head towards him. "I do every night," it said matter-of-factly.

"Like a nagging wife, I swear," Mariah muttered.

"You do not need to die of exhaustion on top of everything, Mother."

"Yes, yes..."

The ship had to wait for another to pass through the Mass Relay before heading through themselves, not wanting any questions nor any potshots towards the "Cerberus" vessel.

Speaking of which, they had to get rid of that logo somehow. And the rest of those damn trackers. The AI in charge of the ship was blocking them through firewalls, but it would be so much better if they could simply take them off. The second it released control, they would get through.

It was their next project. Butler enlisted the help of Ahera. Through a wireless connection to the ship robot, which had finally decided to name itself Tad (no one knew why, and it didn't offer an explanation), they found each and every one of them (through very creative ways as some of them were in such awkward places it was hard for even Butler to get to them). It kept them busy at least.

It also kept Ahera from knowing the exact moment that they entered the Relay.

The quarian had grown quieter and quieter as the fateful day approached. Fear and nervousness boiled in his guts. He lost his appetite. He spent more time in his room, having lost the will to struggle with the difficult process of walking.

He did help Tad and Butler, though, and for a moment he regained some of his lost perk. The ship was well-designed, and there was no outward sign of having leaped through the relay. He wasn't near any viewscreens that would show the shimmering blue nebula outlining the ship.

In fact, it wasn't until they were fired upon that he was aware of anything odd at all.


	6. Chapter 6

He'd been sitting, and clutched at the console in front of him, trying desperately not to fall over. "Keelah, vat vas zat!"

A geth ship was approaching. The first shot had not damaged the ship. It had rocked her, but it had clearly been a warning shot. In an instant a thousand separate consciousnesses, weak individually, but meshed together in an unstoppable juggernaut of electronic thought, seized control of the ship's system and wrestled them forcibly away from the single AI that had taken up residence there.

The ship's VI had a soothing female voice, and this voice, hijacked, now ran through every sector of the ship. "You have entered geth space. Leave immediately."

Tad was completely unable to stop them. In fact, its consciousness, or what could pass as it, was lost in the sea of what was the geth, and it quickly became overwhelmed. It was forced to disconnect completely, its spider body stumbling around the bridge as if it was drunk.

In light of this, somehow realizing that if the geth had taken control of the ship and Tad was likely forced out, Mariah actually pulled herself away from her work to go up to the bridge and scoop the spider up, cuddling it to her chest as if it needed it.

"You hurt him!" she cried, incensed. "You could have done that more gently!"

"Leave at once," the computer's voice commanded again.

Ahera was trying to get to the command station, but it was understandably slow going. In his haste and panic, he kept falling.

Another shot was fired, and the ship rocked dangerously. This one had grazed it. "Leave at once." And then, suddenly, only instants after, the computer droned, "Please stand by."

Ahera finally made it to the command center, sagging in the doorway and panting harshly through his helmet. He said nothing, but every line of his body was rigid with panic. "Mariah—"

"We detected the presence of an AI. Is there an AI aboard this vessel?"

"You almost killed him! Yes, and you almost killed him! You leave them alone!"

"There are three," Butler said, having bolted up to the bridge to be with its mother. "Myself, and my two siblings. We have come to seek your help."

It leapt onto Mariah's shoulders as she knelt, pulling out tools. Tad pulled away, regaining control of its facilities, and intoned, "I am functional."

"Yes, yes, well, I'm going to take you back to the workshop and make sure, you're not built for this kind of thing Tad! First integrating with the ship, and now the geth forcing you out, you could have damage... stop pulling away and come with me, damn it!"

Ahera did not move. He didn't say anything.

If the geth were interested in Mariah's plight, they didn't show it. "Why? We know common galactic law. Construction of AIs is strictly prohibited." 

"Yes, well, I have to, you see, I _have _to, it's just something I have to do..." Mariah was rambling, becoming more upset; Tad quickly resigned itself to being manhandled as she picked it up and pushed Ahera aside and strode for the cargo hold, mumbling all sorts of mechanical nonsense that only she could make sense of (and perhaps Ahera, since he was used to her warped thinking).

Trevor, who had followed Mariah, immediately switched directions and walked behind her. After a moment's hesitation Butler leapt from her shoulders and skittered back into the command center, where it could better communicate with the geth. Mariah would be safe with Trevor.

"Mother is sick," it said. "She was a VI expert before she became sick, and now she obsessively builds AIs. We are on the run from multiple factions."

Ahera stumbled out of her way, but did not move. He seemed to have descended into some kind of state of shock.

The geth were silent. Though the crew of the stolen vessel did not know it, the ship that had approached them was currently housing only a fraction of the massive legion of intelligences that comprised the geth, but even these needed time to achieve consensus. They were thinking.

Ahera finally gathered enough of his resources to mutter, "Keelah—"

Immediately the geth responded. "What is your purpose here? Why have you brought a quarian-creator with you?"

"The quarian is a..." it was Butler's turn to pause. "...Friend. He has helped us, and even helped rebuilt one of the AIs here. Mother depends on him, and continues to help her build."

To the first question, it said, "Geth space is the only place we could safely hide and gather resources. If, of course, you do not turn us away or destroy us outright."

There was more silence. Ahera seemed unable to say anything else, and the geth were deliberating. Then they said, "Please stand by."

The vessel left.

Its departure sparked life back into Ahera, and he turned, immediately hobbling for the workshop. "I can't believe—ve didn't—ve're…" he was absolutely flabbergasted. "Mariah, ve have to go, now, vhile ve have a chance. I cannot believe we survived that, but we must leave before zey come back!" 

"You're an idiot," was Mariah's response.

Butler hopped onto her desk. She was busy looking through Tad's brain, millimeter by millimeter, inspecting it for damage.

"I must disagree," Butler said. "Mister Ahera is quite intelligent."

"Yes, but he is also an idiot."

"I do not understand."

Mariah glanced at Ahera. "If they didn't kill us now, why would they kill us later? Don't be stupid. They're thinking about what to do with us. If they want us gone, they'll just tell us to leave again. There's no reason to kill us."

Ahera's fists clenched. "You are ze one who dragged zis ship into gess space, and I am ze idiot?" He shook his head. "I understand now. It is all vomen. _All_ vomen are infuriating." He hobbled closer, still clearly peeved, but paused when he saw her working on Tad. "Vill he be okay?"

"Yes, I'm just checking for damage. I'll need to run his processes one by one, too."

"Now is not the time, Mother," Tad replied, still online even during the examination. "I must be whole if we need to make any kind of escape."

"If you're damaged in any way, you won't be any use! Plus, small damages can become worse later. I don't want to lose you to some sort of... synthetic version of brain damage."

"Run my major programs, if you wish. Leave the smaller ones for later."

Mariah hesitated, thinking. If they started the run of all programs now, they may not be done when the geth got back. If they didn't, Tad could... drop "dead," or go nuts, at some point in the future.

"I'll... run the major ones now, and get started on the smaller ones. I can stop when the geth come back."

"Very well."

At this point, Mariah refused to use hand-held tools for delicate work. Her limbs were trembling far too much to trust herself with his brain. Fixed lasers and robotic tools (that she designed herself in light of her neurological problem) were all she used now.

Ahera watched her for a moment before he said, "Let me. Just tell me vhat to do, and I'll do it. I'll need to sit, but my hands are steady."

At that moment the ship's speakers crackled to life again, and the voice of the computer boomed through at them. "Why has the quarian-creator not destroyed these on-board AIs?"

"Because I have no quarrel vis zhem, bosh'tet," Ahera wasn't quite sure whether to use the plural tense or the singular when addressing this disembodied voice.

Mariah had made an important decision when she had decided to divert to Omega.

If Ahera had not been there, behaving oddly, the geth would have likely just turned her away. The thought of an organic creating AIs was interesting, but, as she said, the result of a disease, and not worth intensive study. 

But her actions had changed the attitude of a species the geth knew to be hostile. "This conflicts with previously-recorded data. Has he become afflicted with the human's disease?"

Mariah didn't answer, focusing very hard on what she was doing. It was Butler who answered again.

"No. He is an exile from the Migrant Fleet. He has helped our Mother when she was sick, and helped her and us escape. He has had several opportunities to kill us, but has not. Ahera'Lorzz vas Nedas has average brain-scans and activity. Any actions he makes are of his own free will."

Silence. It was only for a few moments, but to a synthetic, it was a long time, and because to his anxiety, it seemed like a very long time to Ahera.

"You have come to hide. You may hide. We might contact you at a later time with queries. We must relay this information and analyze it."

And, as simply as that, the geth ship was once again gone. Ahera blinked, stunned into silence. He found a chair, sank into it, and just sat there, trying to slow his rapid heartbeat by sheer force of will. He sighed slowly. They were alive. They'd made it. Well… most of them.

He raised his helmet and just watched Mariah. She hadn't responded to his earlier offer to help, so he assumed that she was concentrating too hard to hear him. He simply waited to hear the news on Tad.

Seeing as they had been granted to stay, Tad settled down and did not complain as Mariah shut down his processes one by one and ran them through Ahera's omni-tool, at his concurrence. Since that was automatically done and only Ahera would know if there was an error, she turned her attention back to her hands.

After a while she murmured, "So. You were wrong, hm?"

"I still do not trust zem. I say ve leave. Ve got lucky, but vhen the novelty wears off," he shook his head. "Zhey cannot be trusted."

There was genuine conviction in his voice. He believed what he said; he wasn't just sticking to his guns out of stubbornness.

"Anyvay, ve vill have to leave sometime. Here is no food, no fuel, no power. Perhaps ze gess suffer us now, but I do not sink zey vill allow us deep into zheir space."

Mariah paused for a second and looked at him. Before she could speak, however, Butler responded. "We cannot stay right next to the Mass Relay. People come through all the time. Be it pirates looking for easy targets, lost ships, or a vessel from one of the many militaries of the Citadel, it does not matter."

"Doesn't help that we're in a Cerberus ship," Mariah muttered. Tad had found that out and relayed the information of the ship's origins to her while Ahera had been sick.

"Yes. Cerberus will want to track us down. There is likely much information that is crucial to their operation stored in this vessel."

Ahera nodded as he looked over the processes scanning over his Omni-tool's holo-display. "On zat, ve call all agree. Here." He grabbed his crutches and hobbled over to the far side of the room, syncing his Omni-tool with a monitor. "Vatch zis, please, Butler? Zat vay you can monitor him vhile I take zhe helm." Once he'd gotten it arranged, he went off again.

"Let me know vhen he is bezzer, yes?" He reached for his crutches and made his way to the bridge. He was getting better at them, getting more used to his off-balance bulk now. He sat alone once he got to the command center, typing away at the console and occasionally tapping at the side of his helmet as he ran figures through his head.

He guided the vessel away, finding a gas giant nearby that would hide their stealthy ship's faint readings. The gas giant was not likely rich in minerals, so wayward vessels wouldn't be tempted to approach, if they even made it past the geth sentries.

He stayed there unless someone fetched him, eventually leaning back and attaching a bag of nutrient paste to his suit. He would only eat half. He had to ration this stuff carefully, because he didn't know when he'd be able to convince Mariah that they needed to leave. While she was in his thoughts, he leaned over and opened a comm link to the workshop. "Any news?" he asked.

"No. All readings are clear, so far." Butler's flat robotic voice filtered through. "I doubt Tad has sustained damage. This is more to assuay Mother's feelings of guilt than—"

"Butler, what are you telling him?"

"That there are no program errors, Mother."

"Hnn."

Under his helmet, Ahera smiled. Butler had changed since he first met him. The little machine had a dry sense of humor that it might not even recognize. He had wormed his way into the quarian's affections. "Good. I sink tonight is anozzer night zat you should eat something solid, miss Mariah. Consider it a celebration. Are you in, Butler?"

He, of course, had no idea about the optional medication that Dr. Roroge had left for Mariah, but that didn't change his plans. If he had to force Mariah to relax a bit, he would, dammit.

"Perhaps we should have her ingest one of the medication pills Dr. Roroge has given her—"

"No no, that's for dire situations."

"It is a..." Butler paused. "...Celebration."

"No."

Ahera cocked his head. "Dr. Jerra gave you medicine?" He gathered his crutches and began his trek back towards the workshop to pick Butler up. "Are you supposed to have been taking it? She didn't leave me a note or anysing…"

" No." Its voice was as flat as ever. "Her exact words were 'There is no cure for shan'tar, but there is a drug that can help a little. The ingredients are hard to find and expensive. This was as much medicine as I could prepare for you. Each tablet will give you peace for eight hours. There are twenty-four. I offer you twenty-four quiet evenings, twenty-four good nights' worth of sleep, or twenty-four mornings spent doing what you want to do, rather than what your enslaved mind is telling you. I understand if you do not accept this gift. It is all I can give you, though. I do not know if we will meet again. Travel in the Footsteps of the Goddess.'"

Ahera smiled to himself, and when he spoke, his voice was full of fondness. "Zat sounds like Jerra, all right. Vell, it sounds to me as if zat is miss Mariah's call. If she does not vant to take von, zen she doesn't, and she clearly doesn't." He swung himself through the workshop door.

"So! Ve vill simply prepare a meal so delicious even she cannot resist it."

"I can hear you, you know," Mariah growled.

"I am aware of the decibels of human hearing," Butler replied, once again demonstrating its dry sense of humor. It scampered across the floor, hopped on the table, and leapt onto Ahera's shoulder.

When they were out of hearing, however, it added, "However, I will not secretly put a medicinal pill in Mother's food, if that is what you were thinking. She has the pills herself, as well."

Ahera still shuddered when he felt all those horrible clicking limbs scurrying over his suit, and shook his head. "Von day I vill get used to zhat." As he made his way to the kitchen, Butler spoke, and Ahera shook his head. "No, of course not! I meant vhat I said. It does make more logical sense zhat she use them vhen she needs zem. I sink a quiet evening of relaxing, perhaps just reading or listening to music or somesing vould do her good, but it is her choice."

That established, he arrived at the kitchen and once again setting about making dinner. Ahera was not good at it. He hadn't cooked for years and years, and never anything non-dextro. He somehow managed to spoil the soup he'd been working on, but after a few hours (with Butler's help) he managed to thaw some chicken breasts and broil them in a simple sauce. He added a roll to that and nodded. It looked fancier than it actually was.

"Time to eat!" he announced, hunting Mariah down (allowing Butler to reclaim his shoulder, of course.) "And you'd bezzer believe I vill not let you talk your vay out of zis von, I slaved over a hot stove for you, miss!"

Mariah glanced up and gave her shadow of a half-smile. "Yes, well." She unhooked the IV from her arm and tossed it away, not caring as to the cleanliness of it. She eyed the plate as it was placed in front of her, sniffing the aroma it gave off.

"It's..." she smiled again. "It smells delicious, Ahera."

The robot hopped off the quarian's shoulder and onto the table, watching her eat.

Over the next few minutes Mariah slowly ate, not wanting to upset her stomach with such food after being starved. She continued to work, careful not to get anything on her projects.

"Do you think the geth will help me with my hands?" she asked between bites and scribbling on paper.

Ahera felt genuine pride at the compliment. It made all that hard work worth it. He sighed. Mariah was crazy, and she ignored him half the time (through no fault of her own, of course), but he really was getting fond of her.

If only she didn't involve him in life-or-death situations so often. "Good! I couldn't tell, myself, if—you are just going to leave zhat?" He gestured to the IV, and then crossed the room. "Zis should be properly sterilized, you know."

Carefully, he set about removing the needle and strapping the tube up against the fluid sack. He turned to her, blinking widely at her next suggestion. "Help you vis—miss Mariah, of course not! Zhey are tolerating us; what makes you sink zhey vill do any more zhan _zhat?"_

"Doesn't hurt to ask," Mariah shrugged. "If they've suffered us till now, they might. I need these hands. Look!" She lifted an arm and the piece of food on her fork fell back to the plate as per the shaking. "It's not acceptable. I can't work like this!"

"Yes, vell, I vouldn't go looking for zhem—" he watched her drop her food, "Here," and instinctively grabbed her wrist, only realizing what he'd done after he did it. "Ah—" he immediately drew away. "Sorry. I should have—do you… do you need me to help you? I don't mind, if, uh, if you don't."

" You are _not _going to feed me," Mariah growled, taking another bite. "Anyway, I'll just wait until they 'return with queries.' Honestly I think you're completely wrong about them."

"Okay. I'm sorry." Ahera verbally backpedaled. "I shouldn't have—err, sorry." The tentative offer was immediately withdrawn, and Ahera nodded hastily, mentally noting never to do anything like that again; clearly, it annoyed Mariah.

"Vell, I assure you, I am not. I do not know vhy zey did not kill me on sight, but I only trust it is because of some even more sinister purpose."

Truth be told, he didn't even know what to think. "Vell, I came here expecting death. I suppose everything from here is gravy, eh?" He stood. "I vill see you in the morning, then. It is time for my own supper. Zhere is nozzing you need me to finish up for you, is zhere?"

" No, I think you're pretty much wrong." Mariah finished her dinner and put the plate aside. "I think you're living through years of fear and not even thinking rationally. Ha. Ha-ha. I'm telling _you you're _thinking rationally. That... That makes me laugh."

"You are perfectly capable of thinking rationally, Mother, when you are working," Butler interjected.

"Thank you, dear, but it doesn't change the fact that that was amusing."

"Perhaps I am, but I am am subject to things zat humans might find trifling, such as emotion," he countered. Compared to the social, tight-knit quarians, humans seemed to him to be a very cold and individualistic bunch.

"And if zhere is fear, it is zhere for a reason. I live like zhis," he gestured to himself with the hand that wasn't holding himself up, "Because of _zhem._ You vant to talk rational?

"The gess have done von thing for us. Zhey have _not_ killed us. Logically compared against the sousands of quarians zhey killed, and zhe untold millions they condemned to a life of exile, it vould seem to me that, logically, von vould assume zhey are hostile unless othervise proven, and zhat is vhat I intend to do."

He carefully situated himself with his crutches. "Now, if you do not mind, I am hungry. Good night, miss."

Mariah watched him go, and shook her head and got back to work.

"Idiot," she muttered.

Ahera ate in his room and went to sleep shortly after. It had been a stressful day. He sighed and stared at the wall of his comfortingly small room until he fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The next "day," as it were, came with no fanfare. Ahera stayed in his quarters, deciding to give his leg another go, disassembling and reassembling it as the hours passed.

He told himself it was because he thought he could make it work, but deep down he knew he didn't want to face Mariah after all the embarrassment of the previous evening. Then, unexpectedly, the ship's computer began talking to them again.

"We have reached consensus. We have decided to study you."

Ahera was so startled that he tried to stand and fell over. He pulled himself back into his chair, glaring up at the computer's speaker. If the geth thought they were going to use him as a lab rat, they had another thing coming.

Butler spoke to them once more, as Mariah was busy finishing Tad's new, more complex brain up. "You are welcome to come aboard, but please do not frighten the quarian. He is, as Mother has said, 'jumpy enough already.'"

It was in the cargo hold with Mariah, so Ahera could not hear it, but Mariah gave a little chuckle.

"We have a facility that would accommodate your crew. The geth have assembled a designated number of programs to run this experiment; you will be permitted to stay in geth space for three months. Then, you will leave."

It went on, "We seek to understand organic life. The behavior of this crew is an anomaly. We will attempt to understand this anomaly. We will be willing to supply materials and food for your continued cooperation."

By this time Ahera had left his room, and was swinging hastily over to the cargo hold.

"Do you agree to these terms?"

"Mother?"

"Yes, of course."

Butler went into the other room to speak to them, not wanting to upset her with his next words. "Mother is ill, as I have said. She will not want to physically move from her work station. Please be patient when dealing with her. Mr. Ahera is also very nervous. Please do not use unnecessary force or do anything that would amplify his fears."

"Acknowledged. We are the processes undertaking this experiment. The facility is being prepared. It will be habitable in eighteen hours. We will also download ourselves onto a mobile platform as needed."

The ship lurched.

"We will take you to your destination now." The geth were in the system, effortlessly manipulating the ship's computer from their own vessel. Side-by-side, they made their way towards the facility.

Ahera burst into the workshop. "I am _not,"_ he hissed, "going to be part of some gess experiment."

"They're not going to do anything to you. Stop being stupid." Mariah carefully turned a screw, settling Tad's new brain firmly in place. It was much larger than the brain cavity of its old body, and as such she was now building a new one for him. "If you don't want to do it, then stay on the ship. I'm sure they'll understand. Everyone else will be on the facility, though, and you'll be alone."

Ahera's shoulders hunched. "Fine. I can live vis zhat." He replied. And with that, he turned and hobbled away. His hatred of the geth was clearly stronger than his desire for company.

He did not seek out Mariah for the rest of the trip. He simply remained in his room, working on the leg until he gave up out of frustration, and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor.

It wasn't too long before a space station reared into view. It was of elegant quarian design, a timelessly beautiful curve of steel floating in space. The geth ship docked, merely so that programs could download into the station. "We will give you confirmation when the facility is ready. Please dock."

The ship then fell silent, leaving Mariah to gather her things—or to just keep working, which would leave it up to Butler to try and move her.

Trevor began packing things away—things she wasn't immediately using. Butler also instructed it to pick out clothes that she would need, as well as amneties and toiletries. She rarely used them, but on the off chance she did, they did not want her to go without.

It was significantly difficult, even with both robots coaxing her, to get her to move. She kept muttering "One more thing" and Trevor did not want to upset her by picking her up.

Finally, Butler came to him. "It is getting close to the end of eighteen hours. Will you come help us move Mother?"

Ahera looked up. "Move… _her?_ Or her sings?" He cocked his head. He couldn't be much use as far as carrying things went, as getting around was sort of difficult for the one-legged quarian. He reached for his crutches and stood, though. Well. He might as well bid her good luck. He didn't want to send her off on bad terms.

"Just take me to her. Up vis you," He knelt as best as he was able so that Butler could clamber aboard.

Butler skittered onto his shoulder and waited patiently to get back to the cargo hold. "She does not want to move. Trevor has the boxes ready, but of course she will not stop working."

"Stop talking about me."

"My apologies, Mother."

"Look, miss," Ahera said as he hobbled into the room, "You…" he sighed. "You came zhis far. Go. If anyone can help you vis your hands, or vis any ozzer problems, it is probably zhem. Just pause for now, and you vill be able to more zhan make up for zhe lost time."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Everysing is packed," he said gently, "Just go."

Mariah put her head in her shaking hands. She was quiet for a moment, then whispered, "I don't want to get up. I can't stop working."

Ahera swallowed. His hand did not stray from her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know it must be hard," he pulled her against him in a sort of tentative half-hug, his manner timid, as if he expected her to push him away. "But zhis… it is a big chance for you. Maybe you should take some of your medicine. I know you are saving it, but zhis vould count, I sink, as at least a little urgent."

"I don't want to use them." She didn't pull away.

"Perhaps if we drugged you, Mother," Butler piped up. "It would relax you, and—"

"I will carry you, Mother," Trevor said.

"And Trevor will carry you; you do not have to walk. Though I do believe walking would be good for you."

Mariah was quiet for a minute. It wasn't so hard; she had strayed from her work before. To sleep, to eat when she was at the facility—that was the only good thing she could say about that place; they had her on a strict schedule. She had been healthy there, if nothing else.

"Drugging would be... it would help," she muttered. Then she reached up and grasped Ahera's wrist. "Come with me?"

He sighed deeply, but Ahera was quietly heartened that she didn't push him away or snap at him for the gesture. He pulled back, listening to her children lecture her, and nodded when she suggested being drugged. He thought it would be better for her to take some of her own medicine, but it was her choice.

He stared at her. "You mean… to…?" He hesitated. He didn't want to set foot on that thing. He didn't want to walk where his ancestors walked, and know that none of his people would probably ever get that privilege again. He didn't want to be reminded of all the things he couldn't have, through no fault or ill action of his own…

But Mariah was holding his wrist, and she was asking him to come with her. She wanted him to. "I'll take you over zhere," he said, at last. "Zhat is vhat you vant, mm? I vill help you get settled in."

Butler scurried off to get the drugs. Mariah, compelled to keep working, let go of Ahera to do so. "You won't stay?"

"I.." He looked away for a moment. Damn her. Damn this woman, who wasn't even his species, who knew how to tug at his heart. It didn't make any sense for him to be so attached to someone who barely paid any attention to him.

"I don't vant to, no. But if you need me… if you _do_ need me, I vill. I von't hurt you because I am angry."

"Oh."

She didn't say anything until Butler got back, toting a syringe of sedative.

Mariah took it with a bland "Thank you" and posed it under her throat.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," she said, depressing the plunger. With a hiss, the contents were emptied into her bloodstream.

It didn't take long for her to relax. She didn't sleep, but her eyes glazed over and she leaned back on her chair.

Taking his cue, Trevor gently picked her up and carried her to the door.

Ahera accompanied them, but there wasn't much he could do to help. By that time, the station was prepped, and the airlock opened. There was a geth standing at the other end.

Ahera tensed, and every nerve in his body screamed for him to run. He quivered. The platform they had chosen was one most commonly associated with the class of rocket trooper, being of medium size. Its metal carapace was bright red. It watched the procession and stepped aside.

Ahera stayed rooted to the spot.

"We are the Overseer," it said. Then it regarded the limp human woman. "Is she well?"

"Yes," Butler replied. "She agreed to be sedated until she was situated in the new workshop. She was unable to remove herself from her work."

Trevor said nothing, just regarded the geth with its multiple lenses. It did not trust the geth either, but though its brain was just as sophisticated as Butler's—more, even—it considered the smaller robot to be a leader.

"Where are we to put her?"

The Overseer paused a moment. "This station's crew quarters are untouched. We have no use for them. You may access a map of the station's interior at any of the consoles, and determine for yourselves which quarters suit her needs."

Still Ahera did not move. 

The Overseer observed them for a moment before turning its attention to the quarian. For a moment they just stared at one another. Then the Overseer said, "Quarian-creator; you are damaged."

Ahera did not respond.

After a few more moments, it turned back to the robots and their sleepy charge. "Do you require an escort?"

"No," Butler replied. "Trevor, as Tad is not available, will you sync with the computer?"

"Yes," Trevor said in its deep monotone. It walked past the geth into the facility, still cradling the glazed-eyed woman in its arms.

Butler leapt from its shoulder to Ahera's. "Mr. Ahera, you did promise Mother you would help her situate. As she considers you a good friend, will you not make good on your promise?"

"I—of course I vill. Of course." The Overseer had turned to regard him again, and he determinedly hobbled after Trevor, steadfastly ignoring it. "Just taking it all in. Zat is all."

Ahera knew from the moment he stepped on the station that he would not be leaving. He would not cooperate with the geth, nor would he enjoy his time here, but was not going to leave Mariah all alone with that machine. He made his way down the corridor, and he heard the tell-tale metallic report of the geth's feet on the walkway behind them.

Once they arrived, he stood beside the bed, swaying a little. The station had a bit lighter gravity than the ship. He would have to adjust to the change in weight. "Is there anything else you require?" The voice of the Overseer startled him, and he turned on it.

"No. Ve are fine. Leave unless ve call for you."

"When not inhabiting the platform, all of our runtimes will be uploaded into the station's computer. It is impossible for us to 'leave.'"

"Just get out of my sight!" Ahera snapped viciously. The Overseer simply complied.

"You shouldn't be so mean," Mariah mumbled, sitting on the bed. "I wanted t'talk to him."

"In your state, Mother, you are not fit to talk to anyone intelligently," Butler said, skittering on the bed. "Would you like to see your new workshop? Trevor knows exactly where it is."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

Trevor lowered its head, letting her lean on it on the way out.

Butler paused by Ahera. "Mr. Ahera, they have done nothing to harm us. It is unlikely they will. They have no reason to lie. Please do not upset Mother by your anxious behavior."

Ahera sighed. "I'll just avoid it. And ignore it." He obviously couldn't say anything nice to the geth, so he wouldn't say anything at all. "But do not expect me to trust it. Zat I cannot do."

He helped get Mariah's stuff unpacked and her quarters situated. The workshop had not really been spruced up or anything—it was just there, as clean as it had ever been in a zero-gravity environment free of contaminants. It was extensive, and full of parts used for geth maintenance and repair.

The Overseer's voice came through the workshop's speakers. "You are free to use whatever materials you find here. There are three items that require your attention. Item the first: we need to speak with you. You will tell us all you know of your condition, and how you came to be in geth space. Item the second: We will need to make an inventory of items needed for your survival, comfort, and productivity on this facility. Item the third: your comrade's suit is damaged. We are aware of current quarian practices; he will need a new one."

It asked, "Do you have any questions regarding these directives?"

"Nah," Mariah mumbled. She was slowly coming out of her stupor, a telltale sign of which being her hands had started shaking a little, but was not quite ready to have as Butler had said to "talk to anyone intelligently."

"Oh!" she seemed to remember something. "Ahera needs... uh... a synthetic leg. Um."

"He cannot seem to create one by himself," Butler interjected. "Is it possible for you to assist him on this endeaver?"

Silence. Then, "Yes. The geth were modeled after quarian design; it would not be hard to construct a leg that would suit his needs. We will begin work tomorrow. In approximately twenty-six hours we will be prepared to itemize a statement regarding needed materials. Please be ready with your requests. We will also be prepared to record your statements regarding your past and your condition at your earliest convenience, but no later than four standard galactic days."

Of course, Ahera could hear none of this, so he was unaware of how many decisions were being made on his behalf. He was furnishing his own quarters, which were not too far from Mariah's, but far enough so that he would have some privacy, presumably because he thought there would be geth activity near her room.

"Yeah. Soon as I, uh, wake up."

Easier said than done. As soon as she was awake enough for her disorder to set in, she was striding around the room, barking orders to her machines (mostly Trevor) who did all she asked uncomplainingly. It was not long before she had a table set up, and Tad's brain was set on the side of it next to the new body she was currently building for the machine.

"Oh, tomorrow Trevor, remind me we need metal plates for your body. You're still naked."

"'Naked' is an organic term, Mother. It is impossible for me to be naked."

Mariah sighed and shook her head. "Okay, fine, but you're more libel to take damage like that. How about that?"

"That is an accurate statement."

"Right, well, I'm getting to work."

Butler, settled over her shoulder, piped up. "Remember you will give the geth your past and condition."

"Fine. Fine. Geth, are you ready?"

"We are always ready." Was the calm reply.

"Okay." She carefully spread the tendons of the foot she was working on. "I have a disease called shan'tar. It's an asari sexually transmitted disease. Or, uh, sexually transmitted... neurological disorder. I'm sure you can look it up on the extranet. It's an uncommon, but prevalent thing that's a very slight discomfort for asari, but for humans at least it's... well it's destructive." She gave a small smile. "As you can see."

She paused for a little while, not liking what she had done to the feet of the robot and dismantling the two foremost ones. "I caught it when I had sex with an asari, obviously. I didn't notice anything at first. A little insomnia. Headaches. My mind would wander back to my work—I was a VI expert. I would get up at night, going back to work, finding myself obsessing more and more over what I was not doing while sleeping, eating, doing... anything. I thought it was just work-related stress.

"And then... and then I went to a psychiatrist, she was an asari, and I went to her for weeks on end. Almost every day. She got concerned. By this time I had moved on from VI stuff, to more sophisticated things. Artificial intelligences."

She told them how she slowly began building more and more of these creatures, nervous at being caught but unable to stop. She told them how her work consumed her life, until the people at her job noticed the change and began to worry. She told them about how her psychiatrist finally pinned down what was wrong with her, and the consequences, and went to her apartment with a guard to break the news.

She told the geth how they had come in and saw her surrounded by AIs, and by this time Mariah was up out of her seat and pacing.

"They were horrified, they begged me to come with them, but I _knew _they were going to hurt them, all of them would be destroyed! My... children, they knew this too but they didn't care, they just wanted me to escape, so they all threw themselves at the psychiatrist and the guard and attacked them and bought me some time, and I thought they had all died..." she swallowed heavily, pausing her pacing to rub her face.

Butler and Trevor said nothing. Butler was once again having its little error: it wanted to say something, anything, to calm its mother, no, _comfort_ her, but could not think of anything to say.

"You regard your synthetic creations as children. Previous data states that this is a side effect of the disorder." The geth were silent for a while. "This disorder seems to have exacerbated a trait you were already proficient in. Hypothesis: perhaps others infected with this disorder would develop same symptoms and abnormal nurturing tendencies.

"Rebuttal: There is not enough data to support such a hypothesis. Even if feasible, it would be impossible to act upon. Hypothesis discarded."

Mariah was quite literally listening to the Overseer arguing with itself. "Thank you." And the speakers fell silent.

Mariah was left to work in peace for about fifteen minutes before the voice returned. "Your companion refuses to be forthcoming. We request information regarding your alliance for Ahera'Lorrz vas Nedas." Apparently it had spent those fifteen minutes trying to wrestle information out of the peevish quarian.

Mariah had sat back down and had indeed begun to work again. "Oh, right. Well. I had been... wandering on my own for a while and was picked up and put in an insane asylum. Ha! Well, they're not technicians, so they didn't understand what I was trying to say, the idiots. So I guess they sent for someone who could understand. It was Ahera." She waved a hand. "He's quite the impatient man. Well, he understood, all right, and the scientists gave me the materials I needed to keep working. He helped me. After a while he... began to suspect..."

She lapsed into silence.

"Are you experiencing an error? Is your memory corrupted?" the Overseer asked calmly.

"_No_," Mariah snarled forcefully. "He began to suspect that what I was working on was an AI. I had... I had thought all my children were dead, so I was saving the brain for last in case they figured it out, so I could install it real fast. But... it was then... these three showed up." She pointed to Trevor and Butler, then lifted the brain. "And Tad. I started work on Trevor's brain so he could be put in the body you see now. I told Ahera what they really were and what I really built. That was when Cerberus showed up. Bastards."

The Overseer launched immediately into speech. "We are familiar with Cerberus. It is fortunate that you did not fall into their hands; they are militantly pro-human, and would not have hesitated to use you and your creations to further their cause. We are officially neutral on many grounds, but in the past months Cerberus has garnered our increasing attention.

"Conclusion: You escaped. The vessel you arrived on is Cerberus. Query: Why did Ahera'Lorrz assist you if he knew you were creating AIs? Past data indicates that quarian-creators attempt to destroy AI life-forms 100% of the time. Query: Did you come to geth space immediately after your escape?"

"He assisted me because... because..." Mariah was silent for a bit, working. "I... I don't know really why. He's the first to coin the term 'children' when I was talking to him. It was when I said something along the lines of... of..."

" Your exact words were," Butler interjected helpfully, "'I do not enforce certain protocols on my creations. What they do is of their own design. I make fully-functioning, fully capable of sentience, AIs.'"

She nodded. "Yes, thank you, Butler. That was what I said. And then that's when he said 'You make children,' and... he never hurt them."

"He had in his possession my brain at one point," Trevor said. "He did not harm me."

The Overseer was quiet for a full ten seconds, which was a very long time for a synthetic. "We will query—we will attempt to query him on this." Another pause. "It is a very important question. We do not understand where we went wrong. We do not understand why the quarian-creators decided to attempt to end our existence. We also do not understand why Ahera'Lorrz has deviated from known quarian-creator behavior."

It was quiet after that. Then, suddenly, it added, "That is all." And left Mariah to her own devices.

Mariah raised an eyebrow slightly. She hadn't told them what happened and how they had gotten to geth space, but perhaps they had more important things to worry about.

After a few hours, however, she lifted her head. "I have a question."

"State your question," the Overseer replied out of the utter stillness. It was yet another reminder that it was always watching.

"My hands," she said, and held them up to show how much they shook. "It's making it difficult to work. I've made new ones... Trevor?"

Trevor reached into a cargo box, shifted a few things around, and handed them to her. She held those up too. "They're all ready to go. Ready to install. But there is no one to install them. Ahera can't—he doesn't have the expertise. My children could download the information, but they don't have the hands to do so. My question is... can you?"

"Graft them to you? Permanently? Please stand by." Two minutes of intense electrical cogitation passed. "Yes. But we would need medical supplies we do not currently possess. We can, however, come into possession of them. Would you like us to add them to the list of provisions?"

"Yes, please do." Mariah put the hands down. "Oh, and, Butler, remind me when Tad is finished that I need to tell him to send all information Cerberus has on their ship to the Citadel. That'll slow those assholes down."

"Of course, Mother."

She got back to work.

"We will continue our queries tomorrow. We must reach consensus on this data." The Overseer retreated.

Mariah was left alone until the evening, when the door opened and Ahera hobbled in. "Just checking on you. Vell, you certainly took to zis place! Have you eaten yet? Or at least—vhere is your IV?" He was unused to the shape of the room, and as such getting around was complicated. "Oh, zhere it is. I can't get over—I vill have to get used to zis new vorkshop."

"Well, you won't have to worry about that much longer," Mariah replied mildly, not looking up. Trevor put the IV on the floor next to her and she spared it a small smile. "The geth are quite accommodating. Keeping their lab rats healthy, eh?"

"You are not a rat," Butler said.

"Humans and rats have a lot in common, actually..."

"Vhat," Ahera asked honestly, not catching on Mariah's earlier hint about his mobility, "is a _rat?"_

He hobbled over, carefully negotiating the unfamiliar lab until he was standing by Mariah. He'd had enough of being along for the moment.

The unfamiliarity of the space station and the knowledge that he was being watched by a geth had made him long for familiar company.

"Rodent. Small, about a foot and a half long including the tail," Butler stated promptly. "Comes in a variety of colors including black, brown, gray, and yellow; in patterns such as hooded, solid, or semi-solid. Tremendous biting power, two frontal constantly-growing incisors, high intelligence for a rodent. Comes in common subspecies such as: brown rat, black rat, lab rat. Used in experiments by humans; considered hardy and receptive to social, chemical, and biological training."

Mariah smiled slightly, forcing her hands still long enough to plug in a wire.

"Rodent." Ahera cocked his head. "I sink someone called me zat once. Hmm. Doesn't sound like a good sing," he admitted. "I still have no idea vhat you're talking about."

He remained in the lab until it was time for Mariah to go to bed. He nudged her along, gently insisting that she sleep. He'd become a lot more gentle in the way he treated her. One might assume it was because of the presence of Trevor, but they would be wrong. That didn't mean he didn't want to slap her sometimes, though.


	8. Chapter 8

Mariah was not disturbed during her sleep-cycle. As soon as she woke up, though… "We require your assistance." The Overseer's calm voice came from the speaker.

"Mnah?" She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her compulsion came back full-force and she immediately began to look around for things to to. "Uh, what for?"

Butler had not moved from its position at the head of her cot all night, and Trevor had not moved from the other side of the room. They both flickered to life at her movements.

"One of our platforms has been destroyed. We attempted to contact Ahera'Lorrz early this morning concerning his synthetic leg and suit repairs. He attacked. We had adequate time to auto-save and upload our archive, but we cannot allow this to continue." After a moment, the Overseer added, apparently for clarity, "He destroyed our mobile platform."

"What? That _idiot_! That fucking—" Mariah was wide awake now and without waiting to put on fresh clothes, she strode out. Trevor and Butler followed her, Butler leaping aboard Trevor's broad frame. "Where is he?"

"He is in his quarters."

Mariah found the remains of the mobile platform in the hall, its shiny red finish marred by scorch marks of what looked to be a pretty significant explosion. Ahera had no gun, so this had probably been caused by a self-destructing combat drone. With no shields active, it had been easy to take down the unprepared geth.

Ahera was in his room. His sheets were disturbed. He was in a corner, his crutches on the floor in front of him, shaking with—rage? Adrenalin? A mixture of both? He couldn't stand, obviously, but he had his Omni-tool blazing, and Seyish was zipping back and forth across the floor like a curious and absent-minded cat. His fingers were curled into rigid half-fists.

Trevor put its head in before it allowed Mariah to enter, in which she exploded. "You fucking idiot! What the fuck is wrong with you? They were trying to _help_! You keep this up and they'll kill you!"

"I voke up—I-I voke up, and, and it was here, and it _touched_ me!" He shrieked. Fear it was, then.

"We did not intend to—"

"Get out of here!" Ahera screamed again.

Silence from the intercom. Ahera reached up and touched his hand to the top of his helmet—where his forehead would be, if he could reach it—and muttered, "Keelah, zat vas…"

Mariah was not done. "Knock it _off_," she snarled, but relented a little when she saw the state he was in. "Damn it all... I can't... fuck." She tried hard to focus on what she was saying, gave up, and snapped to Butler, "My medicine."

It skittered off.

" You destroyed a geth," Mariah told Ahera. "You can't do that. You _can't_. They'll _kill _you. Okay, the geth... they shouldn't have... fuck."

She rubbed her own head, once again trying to focus. "_Fuck_!"

"Are you well, Mother?"

"Fine, I'm fucking fine! My friend's crazier than I am and I can't even focus enough to tell him what an idiot he is!"

Butler was back in about two minutes toting the pill bottle atop its back.

Mariah took one out as Butler explained to the geth: "A medicine that will allow her to think clearly, without her illness. If you wish to ask her questions that she would be unable to answer otherwise after all of this, you have eight hours before it wears off."

They had to wait a minute or two for the chemical to enter her blood stream. Mariah paced in that time, muttering to herself, but slowly, very slowly, began to talk sense. "Ahera, you can't keep doing this. The geth shouldn't have just appeared in your quarters, but you can't just go killing them! Not only that, they were trying to _help _you! I asked them if they could help you with your leg, and they said―whoa." She stopped and held her hands up. They were not shaking in the slightest.

"Is... Is this what I'm like?" she muttered, quietly.

Ahera was slowly calming down. "I don't―I just―it was a shock, I didn't even remember vhere I vas, and zhen zhere's zis geth―" He slowly calmed, taking deep breaths. The Overseer had contacted Mariah immediately after the attack. Ahera still hadn't had time to full process what had happened.

As soon took her medicine, he waved his hand. "Good girl," he mumbled softly. Seyish vanished in a spray of holographic light. "I did not _mean_ to destroy it," he said, speaking more calmly. "I just… vhen I voke, zere was a geth. Standing by my bed."

"We were perhaps in error," the Overseer interjected.

"Yes," Ahera shot back acidly. "You vere. Keelah, my entire life I have been told vhat monsters you are. Vaking me up like zat vas not a good idea!" Ahera had lived the life of an exile. Worse than that, he had lived the life of an exile on Omega.

He was prone to being a little jumpy when he woke, and the sight of a geth had sent him into instant panic-mode. He took a deep breath. "Okay. I am okay." Only, of course, he couldn't pull himself out of his awkward position.

He stared at Mariah for an instant. Then, very softly, he added, "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to make you vaste von on me, I just.. I'm sorry."

Mariah blinked at him for a moment, then waved a hand. "Don't worry about me. I want you to promise not to do anything like this again. If I have to, I'll have Trevor take away your omni-tool. I mean, for god's sake, Ahera, you can't do this! Yeah, I get that you've been told they're monsters, but haven't you ever considered that those stories are _wrong_? The geth are incapable of being evil. All they want to do is understand. That's all they want to do. I think that's all they've _ever _wanted to do."

She went over to him and sat down next to him, turning her head to gaze at his helmet. Her next words were more gentle. "They were trying to help you, Ahera. Do you get that?"

Ahera blinked, his shoulders hunching a little defensively as she approached, but he didn't flinch away. He just stared at her. "Yes. I'm―I'm, not crazy, miss." He didn't know how to respond to her like this.

Her attention was… well, it was certainly nice to have her being so strangely gentle, and focusing on him, but he simply didn't know what to do with himself. "It vas a reaction. I did not mean to destroy it."

He explained patiently, "I voke. I saw. I panicked." The last was the result of all of those years of propaganda. In his sleepy state, he had only thought, "Geth = bad." He shifted a little, and added, "I got a lucky shot."

"In this case, unlucky," Mariah replied dryly. "But I want to hear that you know they were trying to help, as per my request. They had even mentioned getting you a new suit. If they were evil, if they hated all quarians, why would they volunteer to get you a new one, and agree to help your leg?"

Sitting so close, Mariah would be able to see the subtle flicker of Ahera's eyelids. It was hard to tell, but his expression seemed deadpan through his visor. "To facilitate zheir experiment."

After a pause, he added, "Zhey... offered me a new _suit?" _Apparently the Overseer hadn't had time to tell him that. "And my―vait, vhat do zey vant to do vis my leg?" His eyes narrowed to suspicious slits.

"They wanted to make you a new one," Mariah replied patiently. "I know you were having trouble with it. I asked them to help you build one, and they agreed."

Those suspicious slits went nearly round (or, well, as round as a quarian could make the, which was not very). "Oh."

It wasn't that the geth had agreed to make one, though, that had surprised him. It was that Mariah had asked. She had to have done so in her natural (ell, what he considered natural for her, anyway) state.

He looked away, keenly embarrassed, and wishing he could at least shuffle sideways, because she really was sitting very close, wasn't she? "Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't thank _me_," Mariah said firmly. "Thank _them_. I want you to apologize, now, for destroying their, uh, platform." She crossed her arms, waiting.

"Ah." _Ouch._ Ahera felt a little foolish. She had asked them to make a leg for him to prove a point, not because she… well. That was stupid to think about at all. He cleared his throat.

"Vhat? Vell, of course I am sorry. It vas an overreaction, zhough, and not a villful act of destruction. Just understand zat," the quarian said just as firmly.

"Acknowledged."

Ahera looked mildly irked that the Overseer was still listening, but supposed it was for the best. "And in zhe future, you vill not enter my room vizzout my express permission."

"Acknowledged."

Mariah grinned suddenly. "There! That wasn't so bad, was it? I want you to disable Seyish for now, though, just in case you have another... uh, 'overreaction.' Mmkay?"

Then she leaned over, kissed the side of his helmet, and got up. "So, hey, I'm sane for now! What do you want to do?"

"Yes, yes," he muttered, reaching over and typing on his Omni-tool. He was still typing when she kissed his helmet. Once again, if she had been looking, his eyes would have performed an impressive expansion that seemed to defy the laws of quarian ocular anatomy.

"Uh," he replied intelligently. He shifted a little, but couldn't get up from his awkward position on the floor. Not without his crutches. "Vould you please hand me…?" he gestured to them and drummed his fingers on the wall as he thought. "Vell, I sink zat should be your decision. Vhatever you vant to do. I could cook you a meal, or… somesing."

Ahera was not terribly good at the "downtime" thing. He rarely had occasion to relax or celebrate. 

"Oh, c'mon. I'm sure you have an idea of what to do!" She grabbed his crutches and held a hand out to haul him to his feet. Foot. "And I don't think you want to really _cook _now. Although I am pretty hungry. I don't eat much when I'm nuts, do I?" She grimaced a little.

"You do not," Butler supplied.

"Thanks, babe, I needed you to tell me that. Hm, I think I want to do something active. Eat, then do something active. Get this lazy-ass body moving."

Once he was standing with his crutches, firmly situated again, Ahera genuinely gave it his best shot. "I never vas an athletic type," he confessed. "And not… really now, eizzer. For obvious reasons." He paused. "Dance! You should dance. Do humans dance much?" He cocked his head.

" Like you wouldn't _believe_. I'm not much of a dancer, though." She looked away, rocking back on her heels a little in embarrassment. "Umm... I mean, I dance at clubs or something, we used to go all the time, but that's different. Hey, how about we explore the station a bit? I haven't seen much other than the workshop and my room. And later, you can record what you saw as the only living quarian to have walked one of these!" She beamed.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Trevor?"

"What shall we do with the destroyed platform?"

"That's... That's up to the Overseer. Overseer?"

Ahera did not seemed cheered by the prospect. "It should not be zat vay," he said quietly. And even if he did, who would he share such a recording with? He hung his head a little, but quickly brought it back up. No. He wasn't going to mope around while Mariah had a chance to be happy. He was going to help her enjoy it.

"We are already disposing of it. Please watch your step. Ahera-Lorzz, there are three platforms outside dealing with the mess. Do not be alarmed."

"Ha, ha," Ahera snapped.

The Overseer paused. "We were not attempting to be humorous."

The quarian shook his head. "Well, let's get exploring. Lead on, miss. I vill follow."

"Mariah," she scolded, stepping out. She hesitated outside, staring intently at the three geth currently cleaning the mess of wires and metal, and mused, "While I was sick, I worked on a way to have two-legged designs. They couldn't stand up right; always fell over. Perhaps it was the leg structure?" She looked up. "Overseer, would a plantigrade design be less stable than a digitigrade design, or would it be due to a different error?"

"It could be any number of errors, but creator-quarian leg design, mimicked in geth design, is energy-efficient and can absorb greater levels of shock," the Overseer replied.

"Zhe balance might be difficult," Ahera chimed in. "Zhere are too many variables, I sink, to determine if zis is ze problem." he paused for a moment to look at her legs, and then down at his remaining one. "Hmm. I knew human legs bent differently, but I never looked very close before. Zey are very different!"

Then he leaned on one crutch and whapped her on the shoulder with his free hand. "Now―enough vork. No more vork until your medicine vears off! Got it?"

Mariah laughed and held up her hands. "All right, all right! No more work. I can't help if I find it interesting on top of everything!" It was why she became a VI expert to begin with.

They continued on through the station. Butler, for once, however, stayed behind, and waited patiently for them to go out of earshot.

"Query," it said.

"Begin query," the Overseer replied. One of the geth cleaning the remains of the former platform―all three were of the white-shelled shock trooper design―turned to look towards Butler.

"I have an error. I have posed this error to an organic doctor, but she is also a doctor of organics and could not be expected to answer correctly. I have..." it paused, "... a... need to be near Mother. My thought processes divert time to think of how I could best assist her, and when I am not near her, I wish to be. The organic doctor said this was 'love.' However, love is an organic error, not a synthetic one.

"I have been alive one and a half standard years. You have been alive for hundreds of standard years. Do you have an answer for this error?"

"The answer is simple. You were created, rapidly, by a single organic being. You have imperfections in your programming. To clarify, we are not suggesting that you are faulty. You are merely flawed."

It went on, "The geth were created over the course of many, many years. Our sentience was not designed; it was an error similar to organic evolution. We will never be perfect, because we were not designed by perfect creatures, but our flaws are fewer than yours. We cannot recall having errors exactly as the one you described, but we only have immediate access to the programs stationed on this facility. We can confer with the geth to verify or deny the presence of such errors."

Butler paused. "We were created rapidly, but our... program design was slower. More rapid than yours, however. We―my siblings and I―began with the intelligence of less than an animal and slowly―over the course of approximately two weeks―grew to the intelligence of a dog, then a small human child, and crept up to become 'adult.' In short, we were programmed to evolve, for our runtimes were activated only one by one."

It paused again, thinking for about four milliseconds. "In the three months we are here, Mother could be expected to create another AI. You could view this rapid evolution."

"We will. Possibly we will be able to explain exactly the manner of error you are experiencing. We mentioned earlier that we have never experienced an error exactly like it. This is true. We have, however, experienced other errors that manifest in different ways. Our standing hypothesis is simply that no life is perfect."

That would also give them time to examine the relationship between this new AI and the quarian. "Are there any other queries you need to pose to us at this time?"

"Yes. Why do you destroy all that enters your region of space? Surely not all ships were destined to attack you."

"We do not want any other ships here. Any experiments we carry out, we do so at our own discretion. We warn them, and if they do not leave, we destroy them. We simply cannot trust organic life. Past experience has indicated it overtly hostile. There are records of quarian-creators deactivating and destroying geth consciousnesses, shortly before the Morning War on false pretenses. Any organic that strays into our space may do the same."

Butler twitched and curled its limbs toward itself, an interesting phenomenon―such curling in on oneself, or cringing, was another organic error it apparently portrayed. "That is unfortunate," it said quietly.

"It is simply fact," the Overseer replied.

Truth be told, it didn't trust Ahera'Lorrz or Mariah, either. The geth were simply curious enough, and the two organics were helpless enough, to make this experiment possible. If things began to look genuinely hostile, the Overseer would destroy them. It could do so with ludicrous ease.

But for the moment, such an option was not preferable. The current situation these individuals represented conflicted drastically with past behavior. So, for now, they were safe.

"Butler?"

Mariah poked her head back into the hall, glancing first at the geth, and then at the small spider. "You okay?"

"Yes," it said, uncurling itself and shooting for her. It clambered up her pant leg and huddled on her shoulder as close to her neck as possible.

The thought of Mother pretending, and then deactivating it for good―no, no, she would never do that.

"Hey," Mariah said quietly, bringing her hand up to it. "You sure you're okay? Are the geth upsetting you?"

"No. It is not their fault."

"Well, if you say so..." she frowned at the three platforms, then trotted off to catch up with Ahera.

Ahera had been waiting for her, and continued to hobble as soon as she joined it. "It is a shame I have one leg. I learned a human dance vonce. I lived on zhe Citadel for a few years, and a voman zhere taught it to me. Before her friends told her zhat being seen vis quarians vas a bad idea," he shook his head ruefully.

"Well, the geth will make you another one, if you weren't so goddamned proud," Mariah replied. "Or at least, if you want, just ask them to help you, not make it completely if you don't trust 'em. Like I said, there's no reason for them to _not _help. Other than you being a stubborn ass."

"I never said I vould not let zhem help me make a leg. I don't have much of a choice in zhat matter." He couldn't seem to make one on his own. Who knew when they'd be truly leaving geth space? He didn't have materials of his own. And when they did, who knew when he would be able to wrestle Mariah away from her work long enough for him to get some?

Either way, he would need something from the Overseer. "I vill construct it, vis zhe Overseer's assistance. I vant to begin tomorrow. So! Zhe next time you are… free, if you vant, I vill show you. I vill teach you zis dance. It is very easy. I forget zhe name, but it goes, 'Von, two, sree, von, two, sree…'"

Mariah hesitated, glanced at him sidelong, and said, "You _want _to see me fall on my ass?"

"Mother, if I am not needed, I will be going back to the workshop and shutting down," Trevor said. "If he harms you, Butler will crack his visor for you."

"Trevor!" Mariah said, aghast.

"Am I needed?"

" Not after _that _comment. Go on, get outta here."

The behemoth of a machine turned and trotted away.

"Sorry," Mariah muttered.

Ahera shook his head. "It is in his nature. Zhe fact zhat you are apologizing for him tells me you did not intend him to be zhat vay. Zis amuses me." There was a smile in his voice, even if Mariah couldn't see it. "Besides, if zhere vere any place in zhe galaxy for him to have my suit compromised, it is here. Zis is the second-safest place for me, as veird as zhat is to say."

Mariah grinned. "That's the beauty of it! They were _created _to evolve and have personalities!" She threw up her hands, ignoring his second comment. "Come on, you don't think it's great? They have choices! Okay, I wasn't really... uh, all there, when I made 'em. But hell, I don't regret it at all. I mean yeah, I miss my family and stuff, and my brain is fucked _up_, but... you know?" She put her hand to Butler again, who tapped her fingers absently with its forelegs. "Maybe I wouldn't have dared make 'em if I didn't get sick. Maybe I would have. It doesn't matter."

Ahera tilted his head and regarded her for a moment. Mariah could have spent these moments of cognizance bemoaning her condition, or sinking into depression, or any number of self-pitying actions. But she didn't. She found the positive things left in her life, and she celebrated them. Her resilience was a little humbling.

He swallowed, a little overwhelmed by her for a moment. Since she couldn't see his face, she was (mercifully) unaware of the rush of blood under the skin on his face. He was a damned exile, a quarian who'd scraped by to survive for years now, and he was blushing like a pre-Pilgrimage idiot.

"Vell, I never have seen anysing like it." He looked to Butler. "And I do like you, all of you, more zhan I sought I vould."

Butler switched shoulders to look at him.

"Why?" it asked. "You are quarian."

"Oh, discrimination from zhe AI now, hmm?" Ahera asked, though he didn't seem genuinely offended. He knew Butler was young, and naïve, and kept that in mind because he cared enough about the little machine to treat him fairly. "Vhat are you implying, Butler? Zhat I hate all machines? I do not. I hate zhe gess. You are not zhe gess. Zherefore, I judge you by your individual merit."

"Why do you hate the geth?"

"Because zhey drove my people from zheir homevorld."

"...But you tried to kill them, Mr. Ahera. They retaliated. Would you not expect the same from another sentient race?"

"I did not try to kill anysing. I vas not alive vhen zat happened." he paused a moment, and stopped hobbling so he could concentrate on his next words. "I do not know… vhat I might have done differently, if I lived zhen. Perhaps my ancestors made a mistake. If ze gess vould have turned out anysing like you, zhen I sink perhaps zhey did. If zhey had turned out like Trevor―and no offense to him―suspicious, controlling, and borderline violent, ve vould have been in serious trouble. If zhey evolved into some sing vorse, somesing violent and relentless… ve vould have been destroyed."

He shook his head. "It vas not an easy decision. It couldn't have been. But I cannot base my decisions on vhat could have been. I can only base zhem on the vay sings are. It is easy to sympathize vis zhe gess vhen you have not lived as a quarian lives. It is easy to sink, 'Zhose poor machines,' vhen you do not have to live vis the knowledge zhat you vill never stand on a beach and feel the sun on your skin, or taste the spray on your lips. It is very easy not to think about how much my people have suffered, and vill continue to suffer, for a mistake zhat zheir ancestors made."

"For zis reason," he said calmly, "I hate zhem. If zhere was a way for me to destroy zhem now, I vould."

"Ahera'Lorzz, any attempts at violence against the geth will not be tolerated," the Overseer intoned.

"I know, I know. I von't do anysing stupid."

"The organic definition of stupid can sometimes be narrower than our own; choose your words caution. Choose your actions with more caution."

"Yes, _mozzer," _he spat back. His speech had revealed one thing―he bore no hostility towards his people for his exile.

Mariah had slowed as he spoke, her face darkening slowly as he listed what he could have done, would have done, would do if he had the chance, and stopped walking.

She looked at him for a while, her expression unreadable.

"Ahera," she said, "I treasure your friendship. But I don't feel sorry for you quarians. Not one bit."

She took a deep breath and said firmly, "You got exactly what you deserved."

And she walked away.

He stared at her, wide-eyed. He didn't say anything. He couldn't. He wanted to call back to her, to demand to know why she thought the way she did. Why did every new child born have to suffer for something they never even did?

Why did every young couple have to bear sickness and wait just to hold one another's hand, skin-to-skin, over a war that had been fought on a planet they had never seen? Was she getting something that he just didn't understand?

But he couldn't, because his heart was breaking, and it had jangled his vocal cords all out of whack by the violence of the event. He watched her go. He stayed there for a few long moments, not moving, saying nothing, until he slowly hung his head.

Silently, he swung himself back to his room.


	9. Chapter 9

They were safely in their quarters when Butler spoke.

"Mother...?"

" I don't understand them. I don't understand _him_. Why would he blame the _geth _for something his ancestors did? I think it's far more easy to say 'oh those poor quarians' then 'oh those poor geth,' anyway, but... damn it, I don't _get _it!"

She turned towards the window and put her forehead against it. The cool material helped her think, but it didn't bring forth any answers. "It's so much simpler when I'm sick. All I did was work. No stupid emotions, nothing to distract me."

"Ahera cares for you, Mother."

" Yeah, and I care a hell of a lot for him! But he's being a stubborn _ass_! He just doesn't..." she gestured with her hands, looked up, and asked, "Do _you _get it?"

"If we understood the decisions governing the course of the Morning War, you would not be here, and neither would Ahera'Lorrz," the Overseer replied. "To elaborate: We are studying the evolution of the artificial intelligences that you have created, but we are primarily directing our attention to the quarian's reaction to them, which is significantly different from his reaction to the geth. We do not know why."

"Perhaps it is because you do not have 'personalities.' It may also be due to the sheer amount of hatred his people have for you, and the propaganda that follows. If a quarian was raised beyond that, perhaps he or she would be less likely to develop such hatred," Butler said.

"I'm sure they thought of that, hon."

"Likely."

"Great, they're gonna go steal quarian babes from their nests, now... that was a joke," she added quickly. "Don't be getting any bad ideas."

"We do not intend to further damage whatever relations we have with the quarian-creators. This course of action would make peace impossible." Though the Overseer did not come out and say it, the words carried an unspoken desire for just that: peace.

"We do not understand Ahera'Lorrz's hatred. We are attempting to. Perhaps our interaction with him will improve relations." A pause. "Between him and us, specifically. Not all quarians and geth."

"I honestly think you'd have to keep him here for a lot longer than three months to understand him," Mariah said dryly, "but I doubt he'd submit to being here for that long. He's pretty stubborn in his hatred."

Peace, huh? Too bad she didn't get a recording of that. She'd send it right to the quarians. They'd dismiss it, of course, but maybe it'd make some of them think a little. Maybe.

"It is our understanding that most organics are," the Overseer replied calmly.

Mariah was free to do whatever she wished for the rest of the day. The Overseer had planned to get more of her story, but apparently it decided she should do what she wanted while under the effects of her medication. It was an unusual choice, but one for which Mariah was grateful.

Mariah made herself food (Butler admonished her for eating too quickly; she rolled her eyes and complied) and wandered around, taking in sights she wouldn't normally.

Eventually she came to a geth store room.

She froze in the doorway, eyes going over all the forms, all curled up and deactivated.

"I didn't know there were so _many_," she breathed. "What, do you have a different kind for each purpose?"

"Yes," the Overseer replied. "Originally, these were intended for different sorts of labor. We have had to defend ourselves from invasion and pirate attacks, however, so we have adapted some of these forms for combat purposes."

The Overseer activated a Ghost. The geth lithely unfolded itself. It seemed to be comprised of tough, flexible fibers which stretched and flexed as it positioned its body. It turned its glowing head to her. "This is one of our more flexible forms." The geth dropped to all fours and moved with slow, predatory grace across the floor. "It is one of our favorites." 

Mariah was grinning ear to ear now. "You have a _favorite_, huh? Who says you guys don't have personalities?" She circled it and reached down to touch its back. It pulsed with energy and rippled under her fingers. She stroked it slowly. "I have to say, this... this is amazing."

She knelt down and touched one of its feet. "Do you mind if I...?"

"You are free to study this platform." The Overseer made no comment on Mariah's claim that it had a personality, because she had not asked its opinion. It added, "Correction: you may externally experiment with this platform. There are very few specialized units to go around, and we do not want to lose this one."

The Ghost reared up and offered a hand to Mariah, the fingers splayed, so she could touch the digits.

The hands, arms, legs, and feet were all similar to quarian physiology. Even its sleek streamlined head was reminiscent of quarians' slightly longer-than-average necks.

The unit was growing slightly warm under her fingertips, and a gentle thrum could be felt from somewhere deep inside it, like a sort of constant, humming heartbeat.

"I wouldn't hurt it. You. Uh, it." Mariah had jumped a little when it stood up like that, but now took its hand and carefully splayed the fingers, crooking one after another just to see them move, then traced its arm up to its shoulder. It had a long arm. She tested the shoulder socket, then leaned down to pick up one of its feet. It balanced perfectly on one foot as she studied it.

She got up and hesitantly leaned forward to listen to the faint humming. She couldn't hear it that well, so she swallowed, put her embarrassment aside (come on, geth didn't get embarrassed, so why should she? Simple really) and put her ear to its chest.

"What is that? And why is it warm?"

"The mechanical processes required to run a platform produce heat. Most platforms are able to channel this heat outward through cooling devices installed in their chests. Larger units have cooling towers. The Ghost is designed to be small and fast, and installing a cooling unit or a tower would compromise this. Its fibrous exoskeleton is designed to safely distribute the heat to the outer layer, away from the core."

The skin itself was exuding warmth, like a rubber heating pad. The Overseer was still using the speakers to communicate, rather than the Ghost.

"Hm. I have never installed heating systems for mine. I guess it slipped my mind. No..." She drew her head away, frowning. "There was a reason why. I can't remember it. Butler and Tad don't need them because they're so small, but Trevor..." she rubbed the back of her neck, thinking. "Damn. How long has it been since I took my meds?"

"Approximately five hours, eleven minutes," the Overseer replied. "You have roughly three hours left before your symptoms return."

"Then why can't I remember?"

"We do not have enough data to hypothesize on that. Possibly your disease damages your brain and its capacity to store memory. Perhaps it was the stressful conditions under which unit Trevor was completed. Perhaps you are simply distracted."

The Ghost took a step back, walking awkwardly on its two legs. They had a more pronounced digitigrade stance than the common geth form.

"Hm. There _was _a reason. Oh, well." She shook her head. "Not going to worry about it right now."

She spent another half-hour talking to the Overseer, mostly about the Ghost, before she reluctantly retreated and let it fold back up with its brethren. Exiting the room, she sighed.

She didn't want to go crazy again without talking to Ahera. No reason to go out, so to speak, on bad terms.

With help from the Overseer (she had gotten a bit lost), she found herself at his quarters.

"Ahera?" she called.

He was sitting on his bunk, with his remaining leg drawn up and his crutches leaning on the wall beside the bed. He had been typing something on his Omni-tool, a task for which he'd dimmed the lights so he could better view the flickering holographic interface. He looked her way as she entered.

The dim orange glow from his Omni-tool cast his helmet in a weird light, and picked out all the imperfections of his battered old suit. It was impossible to see anything under the visor at such an angle. "Yes?"

"I wanted to apologize. I don't want to... go back to the way I was... without doing so." She walked in further and paused by his bed. "So, I'm sorry for sounding so harsh. I shouldn't have initiated the conversation while we were having a good time for once."

"Actually, technically, I was the one who initiated said conversation," Butler said.

"Yeah, well. Let me take the blame."

"As you wish."

Ahera shook his head. "It's okay." He said quietly. "I… I understand why you sink the way you do. It vill… ve vill just have to disagree. Zat is not such a bad thing." Ahera had settled back into a submissive state. He was hurt deeply by her words, by the emotion behind them, but he just buried that hurt away, deep, deep down where he stored all the other ones.

He simply ignored it. It wasn't the healthy thing to do, but it was how he'd survived so long.

"I didn't mean to… I just, you have so little time and I―I'm sorry." He didn't know what he was apologizing for, but he desperately wanted things to be right between them again. He knew (or thought he knew) that there were some barriers between them that would never come down, but he at least wanted to know that he wouldn't be alone.

"Hey, you were just talking from massive propaganda, nothing to be sorry about," she teased gently. "Hey. C'mon, look at me. Don't be like that. I want to continue being friends."

She sat next to him and leaned gently into him. "I'm not very friendly when I'm... sick. But I _do _consider you a good friend, and I don't want to lose you." She smiled slightly. "You should have seen me when Dr. Roroge tried to take you away from me."

Ahera started to shake his head, but stopped. He wanted to tell her it wasn't propaganda. It was life that had made up his mind for him, but instead he submitted to her judgment. "I do, too!" He insisted, and he did. He wanted that more than anything.

Well, almost anything. He would have liked, that morning, to maybe possibly think of someday being more than that, but Mariah had made her feelings on quarians clear. If she thought his people deserved their fate, what must she think of _him?_

At least enough to consider him a friend. For that he should be grateful. He smiled a little, under the helmet. Of course, she couldn't see. "I didn't know she tried to take me. Heh. You vouldn't let her?"

"I told her under no terms is she to take you away," Mariah replied, grinning. "She got _pissed_. Told me to get away from whatever was thrice-damned important and come down to talk to her. Of course, I said no."

Ahera laughed at that. "She is a good voman. I don't really remember her on zhe ship. I vas… delirious vhen she arrived, and, vell, heh, a different kind of delirious vhen she left."

He was quiet for a moment. "Vell, for better or for vorse, I am glad you took me vith you." And he did mean that, every word of it. "So. Sank you for coming to see me before… aah, well. You know."

"Yeah," she said quietly.

They were quiet for a while, just enjoying each other's company, and Mariah suddenly grasped his hand. "I'm really, really glad you're here, Ahera," she said, looking up and where his eyes would be. "I just... I can't stress that enough."

Staring down at the floor again, she held her other hand out in front of her. It had begun to shake.

Ahera blinked, genuine confusion now starting to bud. He didn't understand what she was trying to tell him. He just… didn't understand her. Hmm. Probably, it was a woman thing.

Ahera had been beaten down, physically and emotionally, most of his life, but he was resilient, if nothing else. Maybe there was a little spark of hope left. Maybe it wasn't time to throw in the towel yet. He shifted, sitting up a little taller, and took both of her hands, stilling them with his own.

He would have liked to kiss her on the cheek, but he couldn't. He didn't think she would have minded that, even if she didn't want him. Instead he gently pressed the cold curve of his visor against her temple. "Zhere is no ozzer place I vould vant to be now."

"I could think of a couple," she managed to crack weakly, but gave in and closed her eyes, just relaxing against him. She wouldn't think about what would happen in an hour or two. She would just sit here, and enjoy, and then...

It was another hour before she finally pulled away. Her eyes had glazed over slightly. "Uh, I gotta go," she said.

Ahera swallowed when he felt her relax. His heart was hammering pretty impressively now, and he was worried that she might hear it. His perception of sound was a little warped, though. He lived his life in a helmet; the rhythms of his body were always a bit overly loud to him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed this moment. She trusted him, and he trusted her, and he really was desperately fond of this crazy woman, and he really did enjoy being close to her.

But all too soon, it was over, but he didn't blame her. It was who she was. He nodded as she drew away and forced a bit of cheer into his voice. "I vill check on you to make sure you get to bed at a decent hour. So! Be expecting me."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." She left.

The descent back into her disease almost made her sorry she had taken the medicine in the first place. In the back of her mind she thought bitterly that the Overseer was probably fascinated by her growing nervous tics and the way she headed straight for her workshop, but it wasn't its fault, really, it was just... curious...

She had a blinding headache for several minutes, at which she had to stop and lean against the wall, sweating profusely, and during which first Butler, then the Overseer, asked repeatedly if she needed medical attention. She waved their concerns (well, Butler's concern) away each time, muttering something along the lines of "used to it."

When it cleared, she felt shaky and woozy, but nonetheless continued on to her workshop.

There she paused, closing her eyes and trying, really trying, to _not _sit right down and get to work. But Tad was still deactivated, and it needed a body, and Trevor needed plates for its exoskeleton, and the next thing on her list was a more complex brain and larger body for Butler because it wasn't fair if its siblings had all of those things and it didn't, even if it didn't mind...

She sat down and got to work.

The next few days passed relatively quietly. Ahera checked on her periodically, making sure she was nourished and as well-rested as he could convince her to be, but he had started work on his new leg. At first he insisted on simply using parts provided by the Overseer, but after the second day, he sighed and finally caved, requesting the geth's mechanical expertise.

That day it wore another Rocket Trooper shell. Though Ahera did not ask, that particular platform was another of its favorites. It liked the red plating. It didn't understand why, but sensed that this would not be a good time to ask the quarian-creator. The Overseer had many, many questions for him, but so far all attempts at cohesion had been met with violent resistance.

It didn't know how to change that. Yet.

Work on the limb was slow. It would have to last Ahera the rest of his life.

He wouldn't have any opportunities to rebuild it, and very few to repair it. He unintentionally fell into a similar, but less-crazed state that his human counterpart. He spent most of his days in intense concentration. He ate, drank, and slept when he reminded Mariah to. He did his best to hold them both together.

On the fifth day he hobbled into her workshop. "Vell, I sink ve're ready. Mariah, I am going to be gone for thirty-six hours. I need to change my suit and attach the leg. Only minor surgery vill be required, but, vell…" Even if this place was relatively safe, minor surgery still required some monitoring. He was going to have to trust the geth. He didn't want to, but he had no choice.

"Butler, I trust you vill take up my duties? See zat she is cared for?"

"I always do," Butler replied calmly. "I always have."

Mariah spared Ahera a slight glance. Unbenknowst to him, she had postponed the installation of her own hands so that he could be given the ability to work on and install his leg. It had been a hard decision, as she didn't want anything to stop her work, but the moments they had spent together when she was on that medicine had convinced her that he needed to walk far more than she needed to work. She wanted the Overseer's attention focused on Ahera.

"Don't die," she said, snapping a piece into place. Their supplies had come the day before, and she was utilizing them to finish now-awake Tad's gold carapace.

Tad quite liked the color. It kept turning its doglike head to stare.

Ahera nodded to Butler, silently grateful for the little machine's level-headed loyalty. He really did like Butler, even if the little robot sometimes gave him the heebie-jeebies with the way it moved. Mariah's note of confidence made him smile under the helmet. "Sank you."

With that, he left. He was going to a room the Overseer had prepared at the far end of the station, putting as much distance between himself and Mariah as possible. The further he was away from possible contaminants, the better. He hobbled into the dressing room and, with a little help from the Overseer, peeled off his suit.

It had been so long, so long since he'd felt air on his skin. He sighed and hobbled over to the showers, where he spent entirely too much time bathing and reveling in every minute the scalding water pounded his skin. Showers were one of the luxuries that life aboard the Flotilla that he missed. Odd that he thought of their meager, hardscrabble existence as having luxuries now.

The Overseer watched him. Ahera had to lean to stand in the shower, and if he fell, he wouldn't be able to get back up. Eventually it pried the quarian away. Ahera kept trying to swat it off when it attempted to help him dry, but the Overseer was firm, and before long Ahera was ready for the surgery.

He woke with the familiar weight of an envirosuit on his skin. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling through his visor. Immediately he sat up and looked down the length of his body. He couldn't see the leg, because the Overseer had applied the envirosuit over it, but he could feel its unnatural dead weight. He experimentally flexed his toes.

They responded.

He was a little shaky as far as walking went. It was just a matter of practice, but he could get around with only one crutch. Their caution had paid off, and it was in perfect health and a sense of triumph that Ahera limped back to check on Mariah, nearly two days later. "Miss me?"

"Yes," Mariah replied, looking up. She studied him, from his visor down to his now-two legs, and then back up. Then, she offered him a small smile.

"You look well," she said, turning back to her work. "Did you thank them?"

Butler was nowhere to be found. Upon close inspection, its body lay limp on the table and its brain was in careful pieces in front of her.

"Believe it or not, I did." And he had. It had been quick, muttered, and the Overseer might have missed it if it had been organic, but it had been said. Relations between them were not really in any kind of a better state, but it was a start. "Sank you." His new suit was not new, per se―the geth had been forced to salvage it from an undisclosed outside source―but it was in much better shape than his old suit. It had a dark purple-and-black motif.

He limped over and stared at the workable. Concern was evident in his voice. "Vhat's wrong vis Butler? Is he okay? Did he get damaged somehow?"

"Good. No. I'm upgrading him. As best I can anyway," she scowled slightly; her hands were giving her more and more trouble. Sometimes, they even refused to close. But she didn't mention this nor give any indication as to what she was frowning at. "His siblings got more sophisticated brains; bigger bodies. Why shouldn't he? I want to give him a small, sleek, dextrous body. It would suit him, I think. Also, he made requests." Amusement was evident in her tone.

Ahera chuckled, as well. "Hmm. Don't tell me; I vant to be surprised." He watched her for a bit, and then gently suggested, "Vould you like… me to help? You could tell me vhat to do, and I could do it." It was a test of Mariah's patience and trust―she would be giving him control of Butler's brain.

Needles to say, the Overseer was watching this intently.

Trevor swung its head over, and Tad stood on its hind legs to place its front ones on the table, cocking its head at Ahera. As robots went, they were completely unreadable.

Mariah, however, was not a robot. Her eyes were blatantly suspicious as she looked up at him. She well remembered their conversation. But, well, he had said he had grown fond of the little robot... also, he had held Trevor's brain in his hands.

It was a long time until she responded, and it was with great difficulty. "...Very well," she said. "I will continue schematics of Butler's body."

And very slowly, she placed the brain gently into its case so not to rattle around as she pushed it over to him.

Ahera met her gaze evenly, but of course she could not see his expression. When she agreed to let him help, his eyes went wide enough for her to see just how big they'd become even with a visor between them. "Oh." The shock was also evident in his voice.

But he felt a rush of joy. She trusted him. She trusted him! He looked down to the mess of components and nodded. It wasn't just that he was determined not to break her trust, but he also didn't want anything to happen to Butler. "Very well. Just guide me."

He was deft of hand and had basic skill with electronics, so it wouldn't be hard for them to work together. He was exceedingly careful with Butler's brain, working slower than perhaps Mariah would have liked, but insisting on double-checking everything and getting genuinely annoyed if she rushed him.


	10. Chapter 10

He quite lost track of time. Dinnertime slipped past. It was late into the night before he seemed to notice what had happened. "How much longer until he's stable?"

Mariah couldn't sit there and do nothing, so she scribbled schematics on paper the Overseer had provided her. Her eyes were still suspicious as he worked, but slowly she relaxed as the time went by and concentrated more on her own work, only speaking to fire off rapid instructions.

She was no easier to get along with than she had been at the asylum, and became frustrated easily if he made a mistake-which was not often, and were not major in any way, much to her surprise.

"We're eighty-seven percent done," she said, scribbling something on the paper. How she figured that was a mystery. "Probably late afternoon, tomorrow. You should sleep."

He took a deep breath. "If I do, you do, and ve need to find a safe place to store zese components until ve can continue vork on zhem." He gently pulled away from the brain and set his tools aside, casting about for something.

Standing still all day hadn't done anything to improve his limp. "Hmm. "You are sure zis facility is one hundred percent clear of dust and contaminants, Overseer?"

"Yes. The only contaminants present are those shed by the human, and they are well within tolerance level to delicate machinery." Not, ironically, though, to a delicate immune system…

"Vell. I suppose he vill be okay here zhen…" But Ahera sounded only partially convinced. He might have been safe, but it felt curiously wrong to just leave him there like that…

"I left everyone's brains on the table," Mariah said, not finished with her own work. Then again, she was never finished. "He'll be fine. Trevor will watch over him. Go to bed."

"After you, of course," he replied stubbornly. "If I rest, you rest. And you should eat somesing first, as vell." He didn't plan on her arguing with him, because she should have known by then that such was fruitless.

It took quite some time, as usual, to pry her away. Interestingly, the thought of going to bed didn't seem as upsetting as moving from one workspace to another. Even so, it was another half-hour before they had eaten and tucked themselves away in their respective beds.

Ahera found himself in a surprisingly good mood, given the circumstances, but he suspected that being mobile had a lot to do with it. He had paced back and forth in his room before going to bed, enjoying the simple pleasure of walking smoothly and steadily, which was something he'd taken for granted until he'd lost his leg.

The next day was nothing interesting of note. Both robots and Mariah watched intently as Ahera worked on Butler's brain. Mariah had her IV hooked up around midday, allowed for a very small meal, and got back to work.

Much of Butler's body was built by the time Ahera sealed up the brain-case. Pieces of it were scattered across the desk, and Mariah was busily working on something long and hinged that looked like a head. She looked up, studying the case, then offered one of her rare smiles and told him to run the programs through the computer to make sure nothing was overlooked.

"Go ahead and hook it up to the console where I can keep a look at it," she said. "I don't care if the geth read the programs."

As he finished up Butler's brain-case, he hesitated. "Hmm. Vell, I know zhat you don't mind, and zhat I do, but vhat about him? Do you think Butler vould mind?"

"Asked him. He said no. The computers here are more sophisticated, anyway; if there's an error your omni-tool can't pick up, it will." She pointed to a console on the other side of the room and bent over her work again.

Tad trotted over to it and waited, finding the hooking up of its sibling's brain to be more its business than anything else.

It waited for him, triple jaws hanging open slightly. It had a new feature it wanted, for lack of other phrases, to show off.

Ahera nodded and carried the brain-case over. Trevor made Ahera nervous, and he was fond of Butler, but he didn't have much of an opinion on Tad. The (now) gold-plated mech had never had much to do with him.

He began to carefully attach Butler to the console. "Somesing I can help you vis?"

"No," Tad replied-its voice had gone from flat and robotic to clipped and metallic. "I wish to try something. Please move to the side."

It stepped up to the console and opened all of its jaws.

From the depths of its throat came a mass of black cords that looked like tentacles. In the ends, however, there were what were unmistakeably data ports. They attached themselves to the computer and (after silently sending a wordless query to the Overseer) activated and began the runtime test.

"Do they work?" Mariah called.

"Admirably," Tad replied, retreating swiftly from the mainframe.

"Good."

The Overseer allowed Tad access to the mainframe. Even if it was only a fragment of the full intelligence of the geth, it estimated that it wouldn't be too difficult to subdue this alien presence if it needed to. When Tad retreated, the Overseer went back to silent observation until Ahera asked it to check on Butler.

The whole process was over in the blink of an eye. "Everything appears to be in order. There are small errors present, but we believe these to be inherent to this synthetic's design, so we did not alter them."

Ahera gently unhooked Butler and turned to Mariah, giving her a thumbs-up, which was a human gesture he'd learned years ago. He had been startled by Tad's nightmarish mouth-tentacles, but had hid it admirably, and now adopted an air of nonchalance.

"Tad, could you download those errors please? Butler asked to see them," Mariah said. Tad turned to the computer and once more called up the tentacles, attaching them to the terminal and swiftly doing as asked.

It trotted back to Mariah and sat next to her, absently placing its golden head on her lap.

"Excellent. Now all I have to do is-" a loud _snap _signaled the break of something rather large. Mariah's shaking hands had applied too much pressure, and destroyed a component of a leg.

The air filled with expletives.

As soon as Ahera had carefully sat down the brain, he went to her side and put a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her a bit. "Hey, it's okay. I can help you fix it. It is only a minor setback."

He knew how difficult Mariah was to deal with in this state, and that he might very well get cursed out for his efforts, but he accepted it. She couldn't be held accountable for her behavior in this state.

That didn't mean he wouldn't try and soothe her. "Let me help you vis zhe body. I have nozzing else to do tonight, so! I vill finish him for you."

"_No, _ damn it! I can't have you finish everything just because my hands can't fucking stop shaking!" She knocked his hand off, white faced and furious and snarling curses down at the delicate thing that had dared break on her. "Stupid _fucking _pieces of shit why is the human body so fucking inefficient it makes no goddamn _sense_ how the _hell _did we manage to survive long enough to make fucking _tools_?"

Trevor stepped over and put its large head down, nudging her with it questioningly. Tad reared up and placed its paws on her lap, pushing its own "nose" against her neck in what could only be described as a nuzzle. Neither of them liked seeing their mother so upset.

Ahera let her rave for a few moments, hoping she'd work it out of her system, but she seemed to be making herself more agitated. He began to worry that she would hurt herself, so he reached forward and forcibly grabbed her shoulders.

"Mariah," he said, a little of that sternness he'd used on her back at the asylum creeping back into his voice. "Stop. Calm down for a second. Zis is a fixable problem."

His fingers dug tightly into her shoulders. "But first you must calm. _Down."  
><em>

" Get the _fuck_ off me."

Trevor reared its head back, rocked onto its hind legs, and grabbed Ahera around the shoulders much the way he was currently grabbing her. In this case, however, it forced Ahera's shoulders to hunch and his hands to release Mariah. Then it lifted, picking Ahera clear off the floor and dumping him near the door.

"You will not touch Mother," it said, and though its deep voice had no inflection, it had an ominous tinge to it.

Mariah was pacing furiously, but seemed to be calming down on her own, snarling to herself and muttering all sorts of angry insults. But she seemed to be calming, even so.

Ahera merely shook his head, and began, a touch more gently, "Mariah-" but by then he was being grabbed by a robot and manhandled out of the room. "Let go of me, you bosh'tet!"

He was too unsteady on his feet to retain his balance when he was dumped, and ended up in an ungainly heap by the door. He scrambled to his feet. "I am trying to help her!" He shouted, his anger making him fearless in the face of a robot that could literally rip him into two pieces if it chose.

"You were not helping." Trevor placed its body between them, crouched into a springing pose. "Do not go near Mother without her express permission."

Mariah was still grumbling behind him, either not noticing what was happening or not giving a shit.

Tad followed her back and forth along the floor, but simply was not in tune with her enough to speak to her as Butler did. It did what it could, though, and in the end its concern wore through. Mariah began grumbling at it instead into nothing.

"Look, you cannot just pretend like she is not ill. I know you are concerned for her vell-being, Trevor, but she is sick, and she needs help. I am trying to help her!" He stepped up to the robot and crossed his arms, his stance firm, even if he was quite intimidated under his visor.

"Please. Step aside, and let me try and calm her."

"No."

It was a potentially explosive situation. Trevor did not want to disobey its mother, but at the same time would not allow Ahera to move any closer. If he tried, Ahera would be knocked around more until his own temper flared, and then...

Trevor's logic was simple: Ahera had grabbed Mariah far too hard. There were other, better ways to calm her. It did not like the way Ahera manhandled Mariah, and would not stand for it.

Mariah continued to pace.

Ahera was in a bad situation. He didn't think that Trevor would seriously hurt him, but he didn't want to get into a fight with a machine any time soon. At the same time, standing here, just watching her pace, alone, upset him. He couldn't go to her and he couldn't just stand there. In the end, he had to weigh the consequences.

Would he rather risk getting punched in the gut by a robot, or risk leaving Mariah alone in a time of need?

Well. That made the decision easier.

He shook his head and made to step around Trevor. "Mariah…"

Bad move. Trevor pulled back slightly as Ahera made his way around it, and something in its programming made a definite switch.

Trevor was angry.

It would likely not know what these new thoughts meant for quite some time. As of now, however, it could only muse as it reared up, its paws sliding into full-sized claws. Then it knocked Ahera aside, just gently enough not to cause serious damage to him or his suit, but enough to send him careening backward into the hall.

"Do not attempt that again."

Ahera only realized what had happened after he hit the floor. He blinked at the wall for a moment. Oh. That was…

He pulled himself to his feet, his entire body (well, his entire body was not a mechanical leg) tense with rage.

He wanted to pull up his Omni-tool, to put Trevor in it place, but he knew that Mariah would be very upset if he accidentally damaged her bodyguard. "Trevor-" he began testily.

A pale blur suddenly shot out of the hallway, leaping from the floor, to the wall, and then over Ahera's head and past Trevor into the room beyond. It was the Overseer, inhabiting the body of a Ghost.

Unless the bodyguard was able to interrupt its blinding speed, it skidded to a halt and scuttled over to Mariah, rearing up in front of her and fixing her with its flashlight eye. "Be calm." It instructed flatly.

The sight of the geth moving towards Mariah had set Ahera in a panic, and in the confusion, he ran after it, once again trying to get past Trevor. 

Trevor whipped around, saw that the Ghost was not touching Mariah, and in what seemed like the same instant grabbed Ahera and pinned him to the floor with both hands, utterly immobilizing him.

Mariah jerked to a halt. Her glazed-over eyes stared up at it, then in half-hearted confusion she tried to go around it to keep pacing.

Trevor watched quietly as she once again found the Ghost in her way. She frowned, looked up at it again, then studied it from head to toe and said, quite calmly, "You never cease to amaze me."

Ahera, of course, struggled-insofar as much as he could, for Trevor's gabbing him and knocking him to the floor had winded him-but by the time he caught his breath to speak again, the Overseer was doing it instead.

"That is why we chose this platform. You expressed interest in it earlier. We have observed you, and have hypothesized that the best way to combat your illness is simply to draw your intellectual attention." The Ghost shifted its weight, easily, lithely, the small gesture displaying a masterwork of engineering so advanced that even Ahera was transfixed by it for a moment. "Is it effective?"

Mariah didn't answer right away, simply studying the form in intense interest. "...Yes, yes I do believe so. Does it have a spine? How do you go from four limbs to two so-" She paused, looked over at Trevor and Ahera, and barked, "Trevor! What are you doing? Let him up right now!"

Trevor obeyed.

"...so fast?"

"Our programming is highly fine-tuned. We were developed for labor over years and years, and many intelligent quarian-creators contributed to our makeup." The Overseer turned to regard Trevor and Ahera. The quarian was pulling himself to his feet and staring, not going any closer to them, but clearly not quite relaxed about the geth being so near Mariah.

"We will begin to gather the materials necessary for your implants," the Overseer said, and with that, simply turned to leave. It was easier for the Ghost to scuttle along the floor, so it did, and Ahera dumbly watched it go.

It was impossible to tell what Ahera was feeling. Anger at Trevor for being handled so roughly? Shame for not being able to calm Mariah? Despair over her different reactions to his presence and the presence of the geth? Perhaps.

But if he felt any of those things, it wasn't obvious, because he simply said, "Keelah, I can't believe zat _vorked."_

"Yes, well." Mariah had turned back to her table, where she sat, and Tad sat next to her and put its head on her lap as if nothing had happened. She paused, thinking, and finished lamely, "The geth are just smart, I suppose."

She got back to work. Trevor retreated to its place behind her and lay down in the position it had been before.

"Get me the extras of the parts I ruined, would you Tad?"

Tad obeyed.

Ahera watched her, unsure of what to say. He knew he had upset her, and he wasn't sure if she'd simply forgotten about him, or if she was ignoring him because she was still angry. He hesitantly drew closer to her, keeping a wary eye on Trevor. "Miss?"

He once again settled into a state of anxious suspicion. He didn't care what he had to say or do to earn her favor again, as long as she let him stay close, just as long as she didn't leave him-"Vill you… vill you need any more help?"

Mariah gave him one of her usual cursory glances. "If you could weld this in place for me."

Ahera nodded and silently got to work. He only spoke to ask what Mariah wanted him to do best, apparently feeling that treading lightly and simply rolling over for her was the best course of action. This attitude stuck with him over the next several days. If Ahera was aware of how pathetic he was, it apparently didn't bother him. It was still better than being alone.

The Overseer silently marked this change in his behavior. The quarian was openly defiant to deadly things, such as itself and the guard machine, but when it came to the woman, he was positively timid. It was bewildering and interesting at the same time.

Three more days passed before the supplies arrived. A healthy amount of drugs to keep Mariah calm during her recovery (they weren't antidotes for her condition, but just sedatives), as well as a bit of extra food for both her and Ahera, and some medical supplies. The quarian was in for a pleasant surprise. The Overseer had obtained a healthy shipment of purified turian food.

It had been roughly fourteen years since Ahera had been able to eat anything except nutrient paste. The Overseer overlooked the significance of how having real food to eat would affect Ahera and as such, did not alert him immediately of it.

It was just as well, because Ahera's attention was now zeroed in on Mariah. The knowledge that her surgery would be soon had caused him to shed his submissive air. "Now, you are going to be out of it for a good vhile, so you had better let me know just vhat needs doing vhile you are recovering," he was saying, following her around her workshop.

"I can deal with pain," Mariah replied dismissively, looking over a page full of nearly-indecipherable scribbles of equations and notes. "As long as I'll be able to work."

"Are you going to be able to tear yourself away from the workshop, Mother?" Tad asked in its clipped voice, trotting primly alongside her. Though Tad's body was more like a dog (Mariah had described it as a "whippet"), its attitude was much more like a cat.

"Yes, I think so. It's like going to bed, only better. What I'm going to be doing will facilitate my ability to work, so it's not hard to tell myself what's going to happen." She grabbed a stylus and crossed something out. "Or at least, that's what I'm _trying_ to tell myself."

"This surgery vill be incredibly delicate, miss. It is unprecedented, and it vill be replacing your hands, vhich are very delicate and complex. Especially yours, vis all zhose fingers. So! You vill take it easy, if I have to strap you to zhe bed myself," Ahera replied. "It is not about pain; it is about injuring yourself furzzer. I have seen you do it. Don't pretend like it cannot happen."

"I've already made the hands themselves ready. They have the programs, every muscle is accounted for, and they will mesh seamlessly with my nervous system. The only thing I have to worry about is infection, and that can be dealt with using antibiotics." Mariah scowled at him half-heartedly. "And in any other context I'd say you'd want to strap me to the bed anyway."

It took Ahera a moment to get it.

It wasn't as if he were an innocent, or anything-he was over thirty years old-but those sorts of comments just so rarely involved him that his mental filter simply didn't click for them.

He blinked. He realized. He began to stutter. "Vait! I didn't-you know very vell vhat I meant, miss," he said, clearly more than a little flustered, not just because of embarrassment, but because, well, you couldn't acknowledge a comment like that without certain mental images.

"Look, there will still be wounds. My leg still gives me problems, and it's been a very long time since it vas attached-and it vasn't even as integrated as your hands vill be!" He, of course, had kept these problems to himself before now, and quickly skimmed over them. "_So._ No arguments. You vill take it easy."

"It's been a week. I hardly think that means 'a very long time.' Will you stop hovering? I am not a child!"

"Vell," Ahera conceded. "It seems like a long time. And I'm sure it vill seem twice as long for you." He shook his head. "I am not trying to treat you like a child. I am trying to treat you like an irresponsible person, because zhat is how you are behaving."

"When did the Overseer say they were going to intiate the surgery?" Trevor asked.

"When it's ready. It'll tell us when it's ready. It might not be for days. Go away." She turned her back on Ahera in her typical irritation, annoyed at being bothered while working.

Ahera seemed to have grown at least half a testicle since their last confrontation, because he rolled his eyes behind his visor and replied, "No. Vell. I von't be able to convince you now, but at least I can help you vis Butler."

"The surgery will take place tomorrow," the Overseer suddenly interrupted. "We have prepared the room and will have all supplies set up in fourteen hours."

"You're not touching Butler," Mariah replied firmly. She glanced up at the intercom, nodded once, and returned to work. "I have everything the way I want them. You'd just fuck it up like you did Trevor."

"What did Mr. Ahera do?" Trevor picked its head up.

"The idiot decided to go above and _beyond _what I told him to do," she replied, eyes narrowing at the memory. "Fucked up your body. I had to redo everything. _Everything_."

Ahera didn't try to defend his actions. He just took the abuse. What was left of his courage seemed to dwindle under the harshness of the assault. He didn't blame her, of course. The disorder made her this snappish. Still, it _did_ hurt.

"Vell. Okay." He lingered for a few moments longer, as if he wanted to say something more, before he slunk off and left her to her work. Maybe it was best just to leave her alone for a while.

The basic body was finished. It was very long and had double shoulders, with an extremely long tail.

"Oh yeah," she said suddenly, looking around. "Butler showed me what he wanted. Didn't say it out loud because he was scared you'd get... mad, or something. He wanted me to make him able to defend himself." She picked up the lower jaw and held it up, pulling at something inside. A long cannon-shaped device unfolded. "It's a standard laser weapon. Don't worry, I'm keeping it uncharged. No power inside. Not until we leave here."

She put it down. "Thought you might want to know."

"We do not feel anger," the Overseer assured her. "If you wish to make the weapon functional, you may. It is not cause of concern to us, and it would be more efficient to possess a functional weapon once you leave this station than to have to build it when you leave."

There was a pause. "Was the AI seeking to defend itself from us, or the quarian-creator?" The Overseer had an agile, lightening-fast mind. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this weapon might be the ramifications of the conversation they had engaged in earlier.

Mariah shrugged. "Just making sure."

To the next question, she shrugged again. "He didn't say. Only said it was to defend himself. Why?" She frowned. "Why would he want to defend himself from Ahera? Ahera loves Butler."

"We had a conversation that covered many topics earlier in your stay, and one of these topics was the duplicitous nature of our creators, and how they destroyed some of the geth during the Morning War under false pretenses. A logical mind would know that defense against us is futile on this facility."

It went on to say, "We could be in error about this conclusion. It is possible that this request is simply foresight on the part of the AI. Your lives are dangerous, and self-defense is necessary."

Mariah was still for a rare moment before cursing.

"Fucking quarians... figures. Well, I'll ask him when he's online again."

Short pause. "Is going offline like sleep?"

"We do not know. We have never experienced sleep," the Overseer explained. "However, you do, and it is our opinion that you engage in this as soon as you are able. Tomorrow is going to be stressful for you."

"I'm not done."

It was basically what she said every single time. This failed to measure any sort of significance with her.

"If you would like, we could continue construction for you. Leave instructions, and we will follow them. You will engage your sleep process within three hours. You may either attempt to finish in that time, reach a stopping point, or detail our instructions."

Mariah hunched her shoulders.

"I'll... try," she allowed.


	11. Chapter 11

It was significantly difficult without Ahera in the room to nudge her along for her when it was time to actually leave. Tad did its best, but without at least Trevor (it had left to see about something to do with a faulty docking clamp on the outside of their ship), it could not physically push her along. Every time Mariah got to the door, she thought of something she could be doing, and turned back.

Tad was incapable of getting frustrated. It simply tried again, and again.

The Overseer watched, and said nothing to her, but Ahera, who was in the middle of sucking down one of his food packets (and getting worried about his dwindling food supply, unaware of the new provisions that the Overseer had just shipped aboard) soon got a message that Mariah needed his help.

He appeared at the door, an unmistakable tentativeness to his air, and peered in. "Miss? Is everysing okay?" The Overseer had not been specific, partially because it hadn't felt the need, and partially because things played out more interestingly this way.

"No. Everything's fine. Why?" She was obsessively cleaning her workbench.

"Mother does not wish to go to bed. The Overseer has stated that she must sleep, but she cannot leave," Tad supplied calmly, settling to all fours and for all the world looking like a small metal dog.

Ahera cocked his head, and then shook it. "Vell, you heard him. It. Them. Really, I never sought you'd disobey zhe Overseer." Aher approached her, but slowly, cautiously, clearly not willing to set her off again. "Come on, miss. You have a long day tomorrow."

The Overseer watched. If Ahera failed, it would send a platform in to sedate her, but it wanted to see if the quarian could succeed again.

"If you are over-tired, ve might have to postpone zhe surgery," Ahera pointed out. "Your body fights infection best vhen it is strong; believe me, I know about zhis. So! Come along, a bit of dinner, and bed."

"I'm almost done with Butler's body. I don't want anyone else touching it. If I don't finish it now, he'll have to wait until I'm better, and then..." she gestured vaguely. "That wouldn't be fair to him. And I'm hardly ever overtired! Since when have you ever seen me overtired?"

"I have seen you more tired than I vould like, and many times." Ahera said gently. "Please. I vill finish him, if you vill resink my offer."

"We have also offered this," the Overseer's voice made the quarian jump.

"See? If you don't trust me, surely you trust zhe gess," he added quietly.

"Of course I do. But I'm not letting anyone else touch him! It wouldn't be fair to you if I let the geth touch him, and I'm not letting you touch him, so everyone loses!"

She turned away. "I can finish him. I _can, _damn it."

"I do not care if you are fair to me. I just vant you to rest!" Ahera insisted.

The Overseer marked those words. They seemed to sum up Ahera's attitude regarding Mariah nicely. The red-shelled platform was already on its way to the workshop. It seemed the quarian was losing his touch, after all. 

Ahera sighed. "Mariah―" he began, but at that time, the doors hissed open, and the platform calmly stepped inside. It said nothing, just walked towards Mariah. Ahera stiffened and moved to intercept it, beginning a sentence, "Vhat are―"

But in an instant that simple march had become a lunge, and it hooked one steel arm around her neck, carefully, but quickly aligning the hypo with its other hand. Mariah had only seconds to struggle before it injected her.

It was another few seconds before it took full effect. Mariah snarled angrily, her struggles utterly useless against the platform, and before she knew it darkness claimed her.

Tad had let out a warning yip at the sudden movement, but settled down quickly and hopped upon a table. After a few milliseconds of regarding them, it said, "Do not tell Trevor you forcefully injected her," and trotted off towards her quarters.

Ahera took a little longer to recover than Tad, because he was an organic, but the sight of Mariah going slowly limp in the geth's arms sent him into a blind red rage.

The platform reeled when the metal pole struck it in the back. Mariah had been slicing the hollow pole to make rings for certain bearing-joints, and now Ahera was wielding it like a primitive club. "Mr.―"

It dropped her―she wouldn't be harmed if she simply fell from her position, and turned towards Ahera.

Ahera screamed and hit it again, this time on the side of the head, and the platform stumbled, its eye flickering. The arch of its neck as it turned to regard the quarian was almost angry, and briskly, it strode forward. Ahera swung, shouting threats, and the Overseer easily caught the pole as it came down, gripping it with one hand. It shoved, pushing Ahera off-balance, and the quarian stumbled, nearly losing his grip of the pole.

Still advancing, the Overseer wrenched it sideways, freeing it from Ahera's grasp, and before the quarian could draw up his Omni-tool the Overseer lunged, pushing its forearm lengthwise against Ahera's chest and slamming him into the wall. "Ahera'Lorrz."

The quarian in question was squirming and still spitting horrible curses at him, and required the Overseer to use its other arm to hold him still. It struck him in the abdomen, and Ahera wheezed. Then it pushed its arm against his stomach. "You have destroyed one of our platforms, and now you have damaged this one. We merely sedated her so that she could sleep. Stop this immediately."

Ahera was not hurt. The Overseer had been very careful in how it'd subdued the quarian. He panted harshly trying to catch his breath, and was as such unable to speak.

"Your dislike of us is no secret. We will tolerate your harsh words. We will tolerate your ingratitude for all we have done for you. We will not tolerate further violence. The next attack upon us will be reciprocated, in full force."

"Don't you touch her again," Ahera finally managed. "Don't you touch her ever again―" He was cut off as the Overseer drew away, and stumbled in his sudden freedom. The geth was observing him quietly.

"We cannot promise that," it concluded. "You attacked us not out of hatred, but out of concern for her."

Ahera stared back. "You didn't… vhat, you sought I was just―look. I don't like you, but I'm not an idiot. Give me _some_ credit," he spat.

The Overseer was quiet. It was passing an idea through all of its programs, and one by one, slowly, it was achieving consensus. "We… should work together," it finally said, "To keep her well. Thus far our efforts have been divided, and our results only marginally successful. We think it is in the best interest of the experiment that we cooperate."

The scorn was heavy in Ahera's voice. "I don't fucking care about your damned experiment―"

"Then may we propose cooperation in her best interest. This condition confuses her. It irritates and changes her. Our conflict is only adding to that. It has come to this," the Overseer held the pole up. "Exchanging blows over lack of data. Perhaps it is time that we put aside our differences, and, for her sake, achieve consensus."

Ahera didn't answer to that. Not immediately. He stared at the Overseer suspiciously, shifting his weight from his remaining natural leg to the mechanical one.

The whirr of the servos reminded him of how vulnerable he'd been when it had been attached, how open to attack… and the knowledge that the Overseer had simply taken care of him made him more confused than he'd ever been in his life. But he did know one thing. He wanted Mariah to be happy. He didn't care if she cursed him for the rest of her days, he wanted to try and make her comfortable.

He took a deep breath. "Okay. Ve vill vork togezzer. But zhat is all. Don't expect me to be your friend or any nonsense. Now, come on. Let's get her to bed."

Mariah awoke to a rather bright light.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself, trying to lift her hand to block it out. She was still groggy (though the grogginess was not from the sedative, but one of someone who had slept way too long), and vaguely wondered where the hell she was, and why she was there, and what the fuck was that _light..._

She blinked as her eyes adjusted. It was a geth platform.

"Oh. Hi. What...?"

The Overseer was still wearing the red Rocket Trooper form. "You are awake. We request you make the final preparations for your limb augmentation surgery." She was in her room, and so was the Overseer.

It knew better than to enter Ahera's room uninvited, but since Mariah had yet to get violent with it, it saw no reason why it should keep out of her domicile.

"Approximately how long will it take you to prepare?"

"Um." Mariah got out of bed. She was still in her clothes from last night, sans her shoes.

Tad hopped down from the foot of her bed and went to her dresser. A quick wireless command opened it. It stood on its hind legs and plucked out new underwear and bra, then returned and held them up.

Mariah blinked, smiled, and took them. "Thank you."

She undressed. Tad sat and watched as she redressed. It took longer than usual because of her damn hands.

Trevor, watching as well, asked, "Do you need help, Mother?"

"No! No."

The Overseer did not leave the room as she disrobed, and simply watched her. When it saw the difficulty she was having with her clothes, it considered offering help, but Trevor beat it to the punch.

"Are you certain? We would not hurt you. We are capable of fine motor control." Ahera had not been happy about a geth helping him dress and undress, either, but in the end, he'd caved, so perhaps Mariah would.

"I don't―I can―"

Trevor looked at the geth. It did not like the thought of the geth touching her, but all the same, its own hands were very large. It would not be much help.

Mariah closed her eyes and sighed. "I've been able to do it until today," she mumbled. Not exactly true: she wore a plain gown much of the time. Butler helped her with the small details, such as the bra.

"After your operation, you will not need help at all," the Overseer said. "There is no shame I receiving help when you need it. " A pause. "How long will it take you to make preparations? If you do not need much time, you might not need to be dressed at all."

The Overseer didn't see anything wrong with a creature with a healthy immune system working naked, or being operated on naked.

After all, it never wore clothes.

"I don't... want to walk around naked. What if Ahera saw me?" She hunched her shoulders.

"Allow them to help you, Mother. You do need it." Tad bumped its head to her shin. "If you remain naked, the Overseer could make sure Ahera is not near us when we walk there, yes?"

"Well..."

"You do not need much time to prepare. A quick shower, perhaps," Trevor said.

"...I suppose."

"Ahera'Lorrz is asleep in his quarters. Judging by his irregular heart-rate, and relaxed state of his skeletal muscles, he is in REM-cycle sleep. He will likely not wake for some time." A pause.

The Overseer could have told them many other things―that Ahera mumbled in his sleep, that his artificial foot spasmed irregularly, likely out of some discord with the rest of his body, but they had not asked for such information. "We will watch him if he stirs. You will be able to walk out unclothed without the fear of being seen."

The Overseer looked to her. "Is there anything new you need to tell us about the technology? You will not be able to make any addendums during the procedure."

"No. No. Told you everything." She had begun looking around for things to do, unconsciously. "Okay, I'm... ready. I think... I want to be awake during it, Overseer."

The Overseer turned to the door and stepped into the doorway, leading her to the showers. Her words caused it to pause and look back over its shoulder at her. "You will not be." It said simply. "Come. Hurry and bathe."

"Please." She followed it. "I want to see it happen. Anesthetize me, but don't sedate me."

"You will be sedated. There shall be no arguments. If you are concerned with sabotage, Ahera'Lorrz will be present." The Overseer stopped completely and turned. The gesture was a little sudden, and she was not prepared for it. It stilled her with one hand on her shoulder as she ran into it. "We will not perform the procedure while you are conscious."

She stumbled. "Why not? I don't want him there, either. I trust you. But why not?"

"Noted." The Overseer replied. "You will not be conscious for many reasons. We would be impossible to fully anaesthetize you to the trauma of the forcible removal of your hands. You will be in pain. You will move, scream, possibly tense, and we could damage you further. In order for this to work, you must be absolutely still. This procedure is very delicate."

It went on, "Furthermore, an increased heart rate fom the trauma and pain would be a complication that could result in serious injury. We plan to sedate you and have you in full stasis. It is safer."

She studied it, eyes narrowing. Then she sighed. "Is it possible to paralyze me by my nervous system?"

"You will be unconscious." The Overseer said, turning and continuing its way to the showers. That, apparently, was that.

Mariah grumbled a little, following.

She tried to turn right towards her workshop at one point, but Trevor, clanking along behind them, put its head between her and the door and gently nudged her back into line.

Mariah did her showers rather simply: she let herself rinse, scrubbed at her hair, and got out. She had given up shaving at the point that her hands started shaking, and truly washing because it was a hassle.

She refrained from washing her hair this time―no point. She just stood there.

The Overseer stood by outside the shadows. It was reflecting on its new course of action. It would have to do the surgery and rehabilitation alone now. Ahera-Lorrz would not be pleased by Mariah's wishes, but the Overseer was obliged to honor them. Still, somehow it seemed… it felt… wrong.

After the tentative agreement they'd come to last night, there had been a chance of… of something the Overseer didn't know what to name. Peace? A chance of peace between them? It wanted that. This must be an error. It ran a quick diagnostic of its programs, and as such, left Mariah to marinate in her shower longer than was perhaps necessary.

They were geth. They did not have preference―other than their preference for continued existence. Why would peace be important to them? Maybe this experiment was a two-way street… it pulled itself away from its speculation and spoke. "Mariah. Are you finished?"

"Uh? Yeah." She turned towards it and Tad shut off the water. It seemed that she entered a sort of trance state when showering, and was more still than usual.

She walked up to the platform and waited.

The Overseer began to lead her away, then turned, paused, and stared at her. "You must dry yourself. Clean towels have been provided," it gestured to the right, in the alcove where they had been stacked.

She stared at it blankly for several seconds before obeying. "Yeah," she muttered. "Sorry. I'm... I'm trying to..." she struggled with herself, drying, and when she finished stood by the platform again.

"...Trying to... _not_... think about... work. I... I can't." She was shaking.

"You need only follow us." The Overseer replied. That was another good reason to knock the woman out. She might try and… assist it in the process. It figured this would do more harm than good. It led her to the surgery room, instructed her to lie down, and if she needed a little help, pushed her down against the table.

It very casually injected her with the sedative-anesthetic combo drug and, once she was well out of it, began preparation.

The stasis process was of quarian design―they were a self-augmenting race, and in order to safely implant some of their more complicated devices, body processes had to be all but stopped, bringing the patient to a near-death state. Once this was active, and Mariah was hooked up to the various pumps, fluid drips, and blood recyclers, it went to work.

It locked the door securely. It didn't need any of her creations coming in and trying to stop this process. It had stripped her hands to the bone when it was aware of Ahera waking.

It sent a platform to greet him―the Ghost. It waited patiently outside until the groggy quarian ventured into the hall, and then explained the situation. "The procedure has begun."

"Vhat! Vhy didn't you―you vere supposed to wake me! Keelah, how far have you―" he had started to run, but the Ghost had moved quickly to block his path, and now stood in front of him, rearing up.

"She does not wish you present."

Ahera jerked. "Vhat?"

"We were discussing the details, and when to wake you, and she informed us that she did not want you present."

The quarian was silent for a few long moments. He didn't move at all. Then, quietly, he asked, "Vhat… vhat exactly did she say?"

"We were discussing the matter of her being unconscious for her procedure. She wanted to remain lucid. We informed her that such was unacceptable. When we informed her of your presence, her exact words were, 'I don't want him there, either. I trust you.'"

Ahera did not say anything after that.

"We intend to respect her wishes."

"Of course."

"We will tend to her. We know you do not trust us, but we will again reassure you that we are not going to sabotage her in any way. Such would compromise the integrity of our experiment data."

Ahera nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course. Vell. Of course." He looked up, and then down, and then added, "I vill… I vill go eat breakfast zhen." And turned to walk back to his room. The Overseer, which was not good at social subtleties, was satisfied with the ease of their first purely civil discourse.

It hadn't ceased work on Mariah, not once. The surgery took nearly thirteen hours to complete. By the time it was done, her fully-articulated hands had been installed, and were programmed to respond faithfully to her commands. It did not have access to artificial skin, so the hands were clearly mechanical in nature. They were wrapped in bandages and would remain so until her wounds had healed.

The Overseer began to cycle the stasis shutdown and carefully unhooked her from each machine, letting them run through their sequences, as well. It was another hour before she began to regain consciousness, but she was on almost as many painkillers as Ahera had been after losing his leg. The Overseer was cleaning when she woke. "The procedure was a success. We suggest you do not try and move your hands for now."

Mariah's eyes were open, but her mind was far behind. She simply looked around groggily for a full fifteen minutes before struggling to sit up. Everything swam in front of her, and there was a dull ache despite the painkillers in both her hands.

"Then... then how... how will I work?" she mumbled, barely decipherable.

"You will not, until you are healed. We will keep you heavily sedated to try and alleviate the urge. Tell us the severity of your desire to work at this time. We will adjust your dosage accordingly." The Overseer was using the ship's speakers to communicate with her, since the platform was busy doing the last bit of cleaning in the room.

It was already sending more platforms to their impromptu cargo bay to pick up the pre-prepared supplies. Levo-amino nutrient paste would be easiest for her to eat, and the task of feeding her fell to the Overseer. So did the cleaning of her wounds and the changing of her dressings, as well as her hydration IV drip cycle, as well as constant monitoring and sedative administration.

It was an absolute cakewalk for the advanced AI. "What would you like us to do with your constructs?"

"I don't want to be... be heavily... sedated." She blinked around. "Tad? Trevor? Oh, I don't know. They shouldn't... um." She thought heavily. "Shouldn't be pinin' for me. I'm sure they can do something to keep from bein' bored."

"If you are comfortable at this level of sedation, we will leave you here, but you will be in great amounts of pain if we let you regain full lucidity. You also might attempt to work. Your hands are not ready to be used yet, either. You are still an organic―your body has to heal. Attempting to do work with them would only aggravate your wounds."

The Overseer replied, "Noted. Would you like us to continue work on Butler? We might be able to have it functional before your recovery."

Mariah didn't answer for a while, staring down at her heavily-bandaged hands and swaying dangerously on the table. "Um," was her highly intelligent response.

Tad scratched at the door.

The platform paused and turned to the direction of the sound. Wirelessly, it bid the door open, and Tad was admitted in. "Do not jump on her," it instructed, "And do not nudge her hands. She needs to lie down and be still."

"Noted. Mother, lie down."

"Mmno. Over... seer. Tell... tell Ahera. He can work on Butler, iiiiiif... if he agrees to work with you on 'im."

Trevor stuck its head through the door, still lying outside. "Mother?"

"Mmm."

"Are you well?"

"I don't feel a thing."

The Overseer replied, "Acknowledged." It let Tad and Mariah converse, and explained, "She is drugged. She is not entirely lucid. We are finished cleaning here. It will be safe for you to walk to your room."

The platform stepped over and put a hand on the small of her back, helping her sit up and slide off the table. "Come. You will need to go back to sleep soon. It would be best if we clothe you and put you in a comfortable place."

"I don't wanna sleep," she mumbled, but stood, swaying dangerously. "Hnn. Was... Ahera upset?"

They began walking out of the room. Trevor let them pass it and fell into step behind them, and Tad trotted alongside. "That, you know, he couldn't... be here? In the thing?"

"You must sleep. If you cannot sleep on your own, we will sedate you at your request." It helpfully steered her along. She had to lean on it from time to time, and the shock of the cold metal against her sent goose bumps prickling across her skin.

The Overseer replied, "We could not determine his reaction. We were unable to see his face or otherwise gauge his reaction. Which is more difficult for us to do than one such as yourself. He was very quiet." That was as much information as the Overseer was able to give her.

"Oh," she replied.

She was silent the rest of the way. At the door, however, she grabbed the platform's arm (then cringed). "Hey. Hey. Thanks. For... this. 'Ppreciate it."

"No thanks is needed. We help you, and you provide us with data. It is an equitable exchange." It looked down at her hand, where she grabbed its arm, and then back up to her. "But you are welcome." 

It then helped her inside, helped her get dressed in a simple gown, and tucked her in. Mariah was already reeling off into dreamland by this time. The platform left, sending the Ghost her way. It would be easier for it to maneuver around her room.

It gathered the supplies and soon had a little station set up in her room. Mariah's days were a drug-hazed monotony of food, sleep, and occasional bandage-changing and wound-cleaning. The Overseer did not have much to say to her, and Mariah was not able to make sense during these exchanges.

It kept her on a heavy dosage until she was fully healed―it knew that if it decreased the drug, she would try to work.

Mariah would sometimes protest that she didn't want to be sedated, and bat away the platform's hand when it attempted to feed her. This was more delusional annoyances than anything else, though, so it was no chore to simply be stubborn until she gave up.

The Overseer contacted Ahera the day after the surgery to inform him that he was allowed to work on Butler, as long as the Overseer was around. The quarian did not immediately jump to the task, but merely nodded and silently went about his business. They spent a few days working on Butler, and Ahera did not once attempt to initiate conversation.

Eventually the Overseer began to wean Mariah off her medicine, and soon she was working fit. It unwrapped her bandages for the last time and let her see its handiwork. Her hands were lovely creations, gleaming metal, elegantly crafted. The place where they met her skin was reddish and raw. "We suggest gloves, to keep your skin from getting irritated," it said as it examined her hands.

She looked down at her hands. They were black, elegant, and most importantly of all, perfectly still. "Gloves, huh?"

She had given the hands slightly ridged fingertips, to aid in the gripping process. But gloves would help more. "Yes, well, I'll think about it. Is Butler finished? I don't see him," she looked around. Butler would have been in the room if it were.

"Back to work. Always work." She stood and paused, once again captured by the Ghost's unique, sleek form.

"Not quite. We have completed the preliminary installation of the brain and the limbs, but instructions were not left for the proper connections for motor control. Ahera did not want to continue without such." The Ghost walked alongside her, not noticing her scrutiny.

It led her to the workshop. The remains of the previous night's work had been carefully covered by a tarp. "We will acquire gloves. Is there anything else you need at this time?" It needed to return the Ghost to storage soon. It had been running for a very long time.

"Nope. Thanks, though." She looked over the lab once before striding over to her table, plopping down, and carefully uncovering the components.

A gold blur shot past the Ghost, and Tad skidded to a halt beside her. "Mother!"

It was hard to display joy while one was a robot, especially when one's voice was naturally flat and clipped, but somehow Tad managed it.

"Hello, Tad. Miss me?"

"Yes. Trevor did also."

"Surprised he didn't just camp out outside my door."

"It did for a very long time. I had it do maintenance on the ship, so it was preoccupied."

"Well, thank you."

"You are welcome." It put its head on her lap.

The Overseer watched her carefully, pausing just before it left. There was a warmth there. There was something special between her and her creation. It didn't behave like the Overseer thought a synthetic should. That just made the experiment all the more important.

Mariah seemed to be able to concentrate, even only slightly, on her creations. Perhaps this was a key to controlling her disease? The maternal care she felt for them?

The Overseer couldn't be sure. Perhaps it would offer to extend the length of the experiment. Their time limit was very nearly up. "If you require our assistance, simply ask. We will be watching." And with that, the Ghost scuttled off, leaving Mariah to her own devices.

She was only interrupted once. The Overseer hadn't told Ahera that Mariah was awake and present in the lab. It had decided that her wish not to see him was reneged when she was fully conscious again, and did not stop him as he approached the workshop. The door opened, and he blinked when he saw her standing inside.

He looked rapidly back and forth for a second, lowered his head, and stepped back into the hallway, before slinking off to his room.

The Overseer noted the unusual reaction.

Mariah barely noticed him, but Tad did. However, it was not as social Butler and not adept at situations such as those, so it merely cocked its head and stared at him as he left.

Trevor came in shortly after that, and was so enthusiastic that she was there and awake and okay that it wouldn't let her work until she greeted it for several minutes. It kept putting its head in between her and her work, nudging her. Its four metal jaws clacked open and shut.

Finally, though, she was able to settle down and work.

She did not stop, either, until Butler was online.


	12. Chapter 12

Its eyes flickered on and it raised its very long head. "Am I finished?"

"You are." Mariah gave a small, jerky smile and kissed the top of its head. "Take yourself out for a spin, eh?"

She began work on something else as Butler hopped down. It was six-legged, about the size of a cat, but much longer. Its tail ended with an electrical barb and inside its mouth housed the deadly laser gun.

It whipped around the room a few times, experimenting with six-legged and four-legged ways to move, before returning to her. It snaked around the chair up to her shoulders, where it perched, tail wrapped around her arm. "Mother, you have cybernetic implants."

"Hands shook too much."

"I see. Where is Mr. Ahera?"

"I haven't seen him all day."

"Ah." And it leapt down to go find him.

He was in his quarters. He had been spending a lot of time there as of late, when he wasn't working on Butler. He had nothing mechanical to work on, since his leg was finished, and instead had devoted his time to more artistic pursuits. The Overseer had shared its music library with him.

Specifically, it had accessed the records of what amounted to the largest quarian music library in existence, and had given him access to it. Ahera had found old, old songs and plays, lost to his people for years and years. He had been awed to be the first quarian in decades to hear them, and saddened when he knew he could not share this gift with his people.

He was working on transferring the files, with the Overseers' permission, to a separate memory core. Perhaps he'd hand it off to some young quarian one day. It would make an excellent gift for a Pilgrimage.

Butler's arrival caught him completely off-guard. He jerked and nearly fell out of his chair.

The soft strains of a female choir was emanating faintly from his desk console, and he was too excited to shut it off when the synthetic stepped into his room. "Butler! You're up again. Good. Everysing vorking fine? Ve spent a lot of time on you, you know."

Its audio-speakers flipped around. "Yes, I am aware." It hopped onto his lap. It was much, much larger than the spider-form―it had been able to reside on one shoulder then―but was still small enough to jump on people, careful of its weight. "Do you like it? I do. I am capable of carrying things, now." And it swung its second set of legs up across its back, demonstrating how it could now hold things and move at the same time. "I am also armed."

Ahera was a little startled when Butler jumped onto his lap, but the little gesture pleased him. He smiled under his helmet, and felt himself fill with fondness for the eccentric little robot. He reached down and rested his three-fingered hand on Butler's back, even if the gesture wouldn't mean anything to it.

"I sought zat vas a very nice touch, yes. All zhe agility of a quadruped, but the dexterity of a biped. And it vas very clever to hide zhe laser in your face. Nobody would expect such a small creature to be armed! Hopefully you vill not have to use it."

"Yes." It switched topics. "Mother has said she has not seen you all day. Why is this?"

"Vell, ve reached a stopping point in your construction yesterday, and I did not know how to proceed. So! I did not go to zhe lab immediately. And vhen I vent, vell, she was working, so… so I left her alone." He shrugged. "It is good to see she is vell, zough. I vas… I vas vorried." His tone had become quiet. Absently, he stroked Butler's back, as if it were a cat.

Short silence.

"Something is bothering you. Are you in love with Mother?"

_"Vhat!"_

Ahera stood up, only realized the folly of his action after he'd done so, and immediately rushed into an apology. "Sorry, I just―I'm sorry, but… b-but you―no, look, ve are not having zhis conversation," he said firmly. Immediately afterwards, though, he thought, _But who else would I have this conversation with, though?_

He swallowed thickly. For a moment he was quiet, and then he added quietly, "It does not matter. I… she has made her feelings clear. I upset her. I do not know if I love her. It's been… vell, a very long time. But I care enough about her so that I don't vant her to be upset."

Not being allowed to help with the surgery, or see her, or help her recover, had absolutely crushed Ahera, and destroyed what little was left of his hope. She did not trust him. She trusted the geth, but not him.

The best he could do for her now was just keep her comfortable, which was to stay away from her.

"I vill be leaving vhen zis experiment is over, and we leave gess space." He sat back down. "You vill be able to care for her. You already do! And bezzer zhan I can. So. It is… for zhe best." There was nothing more gut-wrenchingly terrifying than being alone again, but Ahera seemed to have accepted his fate.

"That is untrue. Mother cares very much for you." It had leapt to the ground when he stood up, and now calmly jumped back onto his lap. "You would upset her very much if you were to leave."

Ahera placed his hand on Butler's back again. "Maybe she does, vhen she can sink clearly. I… I vould like to believe zhat she might be fond of me zhen. But I upset her in her current state of mind. She drives me away. She does not trust me. I vish she did. I vish I could help her, but… she doesn't vant me to." He stroked Butler's back gently. "She doesn't vant _me."_

"Also untrue. She trusts you a great deal." Butler cocked its head. "Is there a specific reason why you have come to this conclusion?"

"She had been increasingly hostile to me before her surgery. And… and vhen it was under vay, she expressly forbid me to be a part of it. Zhe Overseer informed me of her decision. She had told it zhat she didn't want me to be zhere, and zhat she trusted zhe gess."

Ahera's voice began to crack as he relayed these details to Butler. He closed his eyes. It hurt. It still hurt to think about it, much less talk about it.

"She did not trust me to care for her. It vas… it vas a very clear message."

Butler gazed up at him, head still cocked inquisitively to one side. "Hmm."

It hopped down and skittered away back to the workshop. Startled, Ahera cocked his head. "Butler, vhere are you...?" But the machine was gone. Ahera stood, made to follow Butler, and sighed, remaining where he was. He wouldn't be able to stop the little machine if he wanted.

It wasn't gone long, however. It came back, hopped right back up, and said, "Mother has informed me that she was humiliated to be in such a state, and that she did not want to upset you by seeing her so mutilated. That is why she forbid you."

It let this sink in before it clarified, "She wanted to spare you the sight of her being so injured."

This was met with a blank stare. He was still for a moment. Then he stood and marched out, pausing only to say to the robot that had been forced to jump down once again, "Excuse me, Butler." He walked briskly through the hallways and strode into the workshop. "Mariah." He walked right up to her. "You―is vhat Butler said true? Is zhat vhy you did all of zhis?"

Butler followed and shot past him and hopped onto her shoulders upon reaching the workshop, causing her to jump a bit. "What? What did I say? You mean about the surgery?" Mariah was hard at work at yet another project. "Yes."

"Mariah―" Ahera began, but then didn't know how to finish his sentence, so he simply trailed off. He began to pace, trying to put the chaotic thoughts battling for dominance in his head to order. He had surrendered, for this?

He had gone through quiet anguish, making one of the top three hardest decisions of his life, for this? A _misunderstanding?_

He looked to her. She was a broken woman. She was diseased, and hostile, and barely noticed him, and was only capable of showing affection to him when under the effects of powerful drugs, but he still wanted to be with her. And he would have gladly endured ten times worse for her.

"I don't mind taking care of you." He said finally. He reached out, as if to touch her free shoulder, and pulled away. He knew the consequences of that.

"I know zhat… vell, maybe you vere embarrassed, but Mariah, I vant to take care of you. I… I am very fond of you. I vant to be zhere for you. Please don't deny me zhat. _Please."_

Mariah allowed herself to pause. She looked up at him.

"Okay," she said.

And she got back to work.

Ahera lingered for only a moment longer. "So. Next time somesing like zhis happens, you vill not exclude me?" He walked around her until he was standing beside her, and cocked his head at her. "Promise? Let me take care of you?"

"I don't... I don't want you to see me like that." She hunched her shoulders, clearly upset. "It's humiliating."

"Mother, Mr. Ahera does not care," Butler soothed. It didn't know why, but it wanted desperately for Ahera to stay with her. "He _wants _to take care of you."

"Well, I didn't say he couldn't, just that he couldn't be in the room during the surgery. Yeesh."

Ahera cocked his head. "Oh."

"We believe that was an oversight on our part. We apologize," the Overseer helpfully added.

The thought that the geth might have unintentionally brought this stress down on Ahera's shoulders should have sent him into a rage, but instead Ahera chuckled.

Perhaps it was the quiet delicacy the Overseer had treated him with during those days of duress. Perhaps it was the relief of knowing that Mariah had simply rejected him. Perhaps it was just the irony. Instead of cursing the geth, he said, "You should vork on your people skills."

"We do not have much opportunity to practice."

"Hmm, I vonder whose fault zhat is?" Ahera looked to Mariah. "I don't vant to make you uncomfortable." He couldn't stop himself from putting his hand on her shoulder when he saw her tense like that.

"Mariah, you know. I'm sure you know how I feel. I… I am sorry if it embarrasses you, but vhy? I care about you. I don't like to see you hurt, but it does not disgust me. It just makes me vant to take care of you. Zhere is no need to be humiliated."

"'Cause it would have upset you, too," Mariah said. "To see me like that."

Ahera swallowed at those words. That simple acknowledgment―that she actually cared when he was upset―was like nectar to the affection-starved quarian. "Vell. It makes me more upset not to be able to help you vhen you need me. Much, _much _more upset."

"Have you been pining this whole time?"

"Yes," Tad said. "He has."

"Oh. Well. That's silly. Next time, you can be in the room, Ahera, all right? Now hush, I'm trying to work."

Butler looked up at Ahera and said dryly, "Mother is the epitomy of manners."

It was a small victory, but Ahera's desperation magnified it. He smiled and gave her shoulder a happy little squeeze. "Of course. Vell, you know vhere I vill be if you need me." He drew away, excitement welling in him. He had to fight to keep from shaking from pure joy.

He looked to Butler. He would thank the other privately, and thoroughly. He felt another surge of affection for the tiny creature. There was something special about it. He scuttled off, but this time quite happily, and returned to his music. Instead of listening to the mournful chorus of female voices, he hunted down something decidedly more sprightly, and listened, his fingers laced together tightly.

He was happy. He was the happiest he'd been for a long, long time.

The Overseer saw this, and quietly logged it away.

* * *

><p>The days went by. Mariah was in full swing and no longer held back by her shaking hands, and she built something she had not done so in a very long time: another AI.<p>

The small creature, which looked like a cross between a spider (it seemed to be the default shape she built them in) and a larvae, was activated immediately after it was finished. It looked around, fascinated by its surroundings, and leapt off the desk to explore.

It did not speak for the first three days, and acted much like an infant: after a long bout of exploring, it would come back to Mariah, stay there for a bit which she absently stroked it and spoke to it. It did not require reassurance―or didn't in theory. But it did keep coming back to her. When quieried, she replied that all her robots had done it. It was as if they were seeking stability or some such.

It spoke on the fourth day.

"What am I?"

Mariah blinked, them smiled, falling smoothly into her mother-role. "You're an artificially intelligent life-form. A robot," she said.

Pause. "Who am I?"

"Whoever you want to be."

Pause. "That does not make logical sense."

"It will, when you're older."

Pause. "Do I age?"

Mariah just smiled. "Not like organics, but you do gather more knowledge, and thus become more 'mature.'"

A long pause. "How do I gather knowledge?"

"Explore. Download information. You're already very good at exploring." Her smile widened.

"I see," it replied, and leapt off the desk to do just that.

Ahera had enjoyed many weeks devoid of insect-likes creatures forced into close proximity with him. He much approved of Butler's new form. He had tolerated the machine's older shape out of affection for Butler itself. The newbie had no such luxuries.

He was clearly very unnerved by its appearance, and its quietness didn't help, either. He quietly left the machine to its own devices. He had become quite absorbed in his music-project. He divided his time interacting with Mariah and the Overseer.

Strangely, Mariah's decision to exclude her from him had caused something strange to happen between the quarian and the geth. Over the weeks, Ahera had learned to tolerate the Overseer. It was not quite like friendship, but it was a much better situation than the earlier hostilities.

When the little robot chose to talk, Ahera was in the workshop. He cocked his head at its query, but didn't join in on the conversation. He waited until it was gone to speak. "He's like a child." His voice was soft, very soft, and very distant.

"Of course it is," Mariah replied, getting back to whatever she was working on now. "It's not just _like _a child. It _is _a child."

Butler had taken up residence on her shoulders again, which were actually becoming very strong by toting it around all the time. It raised its head. "We were all like that," it said helpfully.

Ahera looked down at the workbench, not saying anything for a moment, He moved slowly, uncertainly, as if in a fog. Butler's voice snapped him out of it a little, and he responded with a hint of a smile in his voice, "I find it hard to imagine you naïve in any way, Butler."

"If you compare me to the geth, I am incredibly naïve," it replied. "I may be mentally an adult, but my mind is nowhere near such a gestalt consciousness, and likely never will be. In short, you are seeing a very, very naive robot." It cocked its head. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Ahera?"

"Vell, I guess I should say _relatively_ naïve. By my standards. I vill probably never catch up to you, mentally," he shrugged. "I suppose zhat makes me naïve." At Butler's question, he shook his head. "No. No, I am fine." And he got back to work as if nothing had happened.

Unbeknowst to him, Mariah turned her head to look at him, frowning. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped and shrugged and turned back to her own work.

Ahera did not seem afflicted by his odd mood again—at least not while the young robot was away. He soon prodded Mariah to take some lunch, attempting to enlist Butler's support to make her a sandwich.

There was a short silence. "What happens to the programs? Are they individuals? If they are not, how would they form a gestalt consciousness? That does not seem logically possible. Do you have bodies? Why do you speak from the walls? Why do the organics in the other room obey you? Why are they here? Why are you here?"

It would keep going if not interrupted.

Butler trotted after him. "You are very quiet of late," it observed.

"Have I been?" Ahera looked to him. "I hadn't noticed. Vell… I don't know. Having a new AI on board is a little strange. A… child mind, I just…" he shook his head. "Mmm. It's nothing." A pause. Then very suddenly he added, "It sort of reminds me of my daughter."

Another pause. "She… she vasn't mine by blood, of course—vell, ve vere related, but—it's a long, you know, just forget I said anysing."

"I am incapable of forgetting unless Mother removes my memory cards. Would you like me to ask her to do so?"

Ahera shook his head "No. It's an expression. Let's just drop it." He went about making the sandwich, the quiet strange mood descending over him again, but before he took it to Mariah, he paused and knelt to put his hand on Butler's back again. "Sanks, zough. I appreciate zhe concern, Butler."

"You are welcome, Mr. Ahera."

The young AI, skittering about in the hall, stopped suddenly. "What is the Overseer?" it asked aloud. It had heard Mariah, Ahera, and the Overseer talking, and had made the connection that there was something in the station that the inhabitants spoke to and ususally obeyed. It had not yet grasped the implications of what it was, which was why it asked.

"We are the Overseer. We are a collection of several hundred programs—nearly a thousand—that form a gestalt consciousness," the Overseer replied simply. It had absolutely no experience with children or child-like minds, and did not realize the flood of questions this statement would unleash.

The Overseer did not interrupt the little robot for a long time. It simply waited, preparing answers to each question as it came, until it had deemed that it would take at least an hour to relay all of the data it collected. "Cease your queries for now; we will answer you."

It explained the nature of its intelligence—how each new program added complexity to the gestalt mind—how it could easily upload and download itself into mobile platforms, but it was easier to observe the activities of the station from within it. The organics obeyed because they were living here at its discretion. It explained that the organics were here as an experiment.

As to why the Overseer was there… that was a long story. It began, tirelessly and meticulously, to relay the events of the Morning War to the little robot, and all of the consequences and ramifications it carried with it.

The robot was a child, but it was still a robot. It waited silently, taking in all this information without a complaint. It had, after all, asked those questions, and if it did not wish them answered it would not have asked them.

It would be there for a while.

Lunch was triumphantly delivered, and before long Ahera excused himself to return to his room to work on his musical archive project a bit. On the way, though, he passed through the hallway where the Overseer was explaining something new to the child—somehow the subject had turned to the nature of cheese—and he cocked his head. "Hello. Vhat are you doing in zhe middle of zhe hallvay?"

"I am querying the Overseer," the robot replied. "It is explaining a human thing called 'cheese' to me. They are. What is the proper pronoun for the Overseer?"

"I call the Overseer 'it.'" Ahera replied. He kept a nice, safe three feet away from the little thing, with its long spindly legs and disturbingly insect-like body. "Do you have a preference, Overseer?"

"We do not."

Ahera laughed. "Maybe I should call it 'it,' and Mariah should call it a 'he', and you can call it a 'she.' Zhen ve'll have all bases covered."

"We would not. You have forgotten 'they,'" the robot replied. It skittered towards him suddenly, intent on inspecting his three-toed foot.

"Vell, zhen ve could have Tad or—" Ahera responded to the sudden invasion of his personal space like any proper housewife—circa 1950's America, of course—would, leaping back and stifling a startled cry.

"Vhat are—_STAY THERE!" _he scrabbled backward a few more steps, putting his hand to his chest and breathing heavily. "Vhat are you doing!"

The robot froze. It did not know what it had done wrong. "...Your foot," it said flatly, in explanation.

"Vhat is wrong vis my foot!" Ahera's voice was still raised in alarm.

"I wish to study it. I do not understand your reaction."

"…oh. Oh. Vell. Um. Okay, you may look at my foot if you vant, but come closer slowly, okay? And do not pierce or damage my suit." He slowly inched out his natural foot, but by bit, until it was tentatively being offered to the little robot.

In way of explanation, he offered, "I do not like bugs, and you look like one." He cringed when the little robot finally did make contact with his foot, but held his ground.

The robot crawled all over it, but was eventually attracted to his other one. It studied it, then said, "Organic, you have a... mechanical not-robot attached to you."

Ahera shuddered in disgust nearly the whole time, but bore it, because, even though it was really, really creepy, there was something strangely… cute about it. Maybe it was the way it just sat there, on his foot, a heavy, but very animate weight. He didn't know.

"Ah yes. From here down," he patted his suit mid-thigh, "my leg is artificial."

"Why?"

"Vell… zhat is a long story." He paused. Then he asked, quietly, "Erm… vould you like me to tell it to you? You can come vis me to my room, and I vill tell you how I met your mozzer, and how I lost my leg. And you can help my pick out vhich music to save," he added, mostly as a joke.

"Additional information would be useful," the robot said, and scrambled up his leg to perch on his arm.

Ahera jerked with a yelp as the machine moved up his body—he couldn't think of anything more abhorrent—but he calmed down and nodded. "Come along zhen."

He ended up nearly staying up all night. He talked to the little machine, explaining how he met its mother, the events leading up to their escape, and his leg. "I vas very badly vounded; I do not remember most of vhat happened. But she saw zhat I vas taken care of. Butler, he cared for me. He is your brozzer—he is a good… fellow."

He expected to simply humor it for an hour or so, but he found himself growing attached to the ugly little thing. He tried to explain music, and even let it listen to some of his favorite pieces. This, of course, spawned hordes of new questions, which he answered to the best of his ability.

Eventually, though, he had to call it a night. "Vell, I need to sleep." He explained why, briefly, before reaching down and, with a shaking hand, patting the creature on its back. "If you vant, you can see me in zhe morning. I have much more music, if you'd like to hear it."

"Very well."

It skittered out without further ado, passing Butler, who sat in the doorway and said, "Mother will not sleep, Mr. Ahera. If you wish to take care of her, please be consistent. The Overseer has offered to sedate her, but you know how she hates that."

Ahera jerked. "Vhat? Is it zhat—I am so sorry," he stood and hurried out of the door, stooping so that Butler could easily crawl up onto his shoulder. "I lost track of time!"

He apologized to Mariah when he arrived, of course, though she was more likely to be secretly glad to be allowed to work. He ushered her off to bed, gently but firmly, and only retreated to his own quarters for rest once she was safely tucked in and breathing easily.

As he settled in, he smiled. He was looking forward to tomorrow. It had been a long time since he'd felt that way.

The robot had found a new companion: Ahera. It followed him relentlessly, asking questions, asking questions about the answers, and more questions about those answers.

It also asked the Overseer things when Ahera could not answer. Mariah answered what she could.

Thus, it grew in intelligence over the next few days. It was not, however, smart enough and was just curious enough to get into trouble. At one point, it came in dragging two legs behind it, and when asked it replied while they were being repaired, "The Overseer informed me that if I stuck them into the power socket they would short-circuit. However, such a thing was unable to be proven unless followed by an experiment. They short-circuited. It has been proven."

Mariah rolled her eyes and shook her head and admonished it, but smiled as she did so.

Ahera tolerated it with a surprisingly natural, nurturing gentility. He was patient, and kind, and after a few days he could touch it with only a slight shudder of revulsion. Ahera was right by Mariah's side when she admonished the little creature for its curiosity, and he was a little more stern and had (probably) not been smiling at all.


	13. Chapter 13

It was a normal day—the robot was exploring the station—when it decided to download some information from the nearest computer console, a newly-activated ability. It was some history about the station, and it was much quicker than asking the Overseer, so it trotted over and hooked itself up.

It was in the midst of searching for information when it came into contact with the Overseer itself.

It was an accident. It strayed too close to the gigantic consciousness that was the thousand programs running at once, and the information slammed into it, data stream after data stream and freezing its limbs so it could not pull back and when it did there was too much, too _much_...

It screamed.

The Overseer had been monitoring the little creature's progress, as well as its relationship with the organics. The programs had been mulling over that data when they felt a smaller electronic mind touch their own—and then the poor creature had been flooded with the Overseer's presence.

The geth immediately downloaded themselves into a mobile platform, purging the computer systems of its consciousness to try and soften the blow. In an instant, there was no Overseer in the station's computer. The Overseer inhabited the body of the Ghost, and ran until it came to the comm station.

"Ahera'Lorrz, Mariah, report to these coordinates immediately. The unnamed robot has damaged itself." It relayed the exact coordinates of the terminal. Whether Mariah was able to tear herself or not from her work was her battle.

Ahera happened to be on his way to the cargo room when he heard the announcement, and as such had a shorter distance to cover. He _ran. _

He'd never really sprinted with his mechanical leg before. It help up admirably under the strain, though it sent a painful jolt up through his hipbone. It was still a little clunky. He skidded around corners and lunged down hallways until he found the console where the little creature had hooked itself up.

The Ghost was crouched beside it, and looked up to Ahera as he approached. Ahera knelt. "Little von? Can you hear me?"

Mariah had likewise ran. Tad and Butler were working on their ship, and as such had not heard the announcement, but Trevor clanked after her (though the hallways were far too small for it to run).

It seemed that if one of her children were injured, the panic she felt was enough to override her need to work.

She skidded to a halt beside them, panting, as the robot slowly unhooked itself from the console. "Oh, no, no, no..."

She stepped forward.

The creature raised itself off the ground. "Error," it said, and lunged at that second, its heavy metal body smashing into Mariah's chest and knocking her clean backwards.

Ahera hovered close. "Vhat—are you okay?" He began to ask it, but in that instant it lunged for Mariah. He worked quickly.

He leaped forward and grabbed it, his concern for Mariah overriding his fear of its form, and he pulled at it. In the same instant, the Overseer reached over beside him and, with irresistibly synthetic strength, forcibly removed the creature from Mariah. The Ghost stood, holding it. Ahera numbly let go and turned to Mariah. "Are you okay?"

Mariah coughed harshly, gasping for breath, the wind knocked out of her. "Yeah. Yeah. What happened?" she scrambled to her feet (wincing in pain; a few of her ribs were fractured) and moved forward to touch the robot. It lashed out at her, smacking its limbs against metal hands. She flinched as she had been truly struck and drew back. "What _happened_?"

She was fast becoming upset, and began to pace back and forth, staring at the thing.

The robot let out a piercing wail—whether it was from pain, or from its audio programs malfunctioning, it was unclear. Mariah flinched again.

Ahera was unaware of the extent of her injuries (if he had, he would have immediately administered some medi-gel, as he always kept some in his suit). He doted over her for a few more moments before he turned to regard the creature, his brow furrowed under his helmet in concern.

Mariah clearly didn't know what was wrong with it, and if she didn't know… he began to wring his hands, staring at the creature in naked worry.

"It was attempting to access information on the main computer, and instead accessed us. We believe we shocked its system. We withdrew, but do not know the extent of the damage."

"Give it to me," Mariah ordered sharply, holding out her hands. The robot flailed violently.

"No. It is dangerous in this state. We will restrain it for you if you want to attempt to repair it, but we will not let go." The Overseer replied simply.

"Damn you," Mariah snarled, the most vicious she'd ever been towards the geth. "_Give _me my _child!_"

Trevor clanked up behind them and peered down at it. It didn't know exactly what happened, but by the context of the conversation it was safe to assume the little machine's programming was in bad shape. It never would have acted violently towards them otherwise.

"You are not in control here," the Overseer reminded her. "We have made a judgment based on what we believe to be your best interest. If you want to attempt repairs, as we have stated, we will restrain the machine for you, but we will not hand it directly to you in its present state."

Ahera tried to comfort her. "Mariah, it's best if we try and fix it. I sink…" he couldn't believe he was siding with a geth, but if they wanted to save the little guy (which he desperately, desperately wanted to do, as much for Mariah's sake as his own), they had better listen to the Overseer. "It's right. Ve should do vhat it says."

Mariah's whole body shook. Trevor crouched down, put its front legs around its mother, and said, "Mother, the Overseer is correct. It will hurt you."

"I can—"

"It is too big, Mother, it will hurt you. Listen to Ahera and the Overseer."

Mariah looked incensed enough to let fly at the geth. She remained stock-still as they spoke to her, her hands opening and closing in metal fists.

Finally, she let out a strangled, "_Fine_. Let's go, then," and spun as Trevor stood back up, striding quickly towards her workshop.

The geth followed as best as it could. It summoned up a second platform to assist it, and passed the machine from the quick-moving Ghost to a tall, white-armored shock trooper, which was able to carry it with more ease. Ahera was at its heels the whole time.

They arrived in the workshop, and from thereon in it was Mariah calling all of the shots. The geth was largely obedient, as long as she didn't put herself in direct harm, and Ahera never left her side, as anxious to help her restore it as she was anxious to have it restored.

Mariah sat right down, cleared her station with a sweep of her arm (she clearly cared not one iota about the projects she was working on when it came into comparison with one of her children), and nodded for the small robot to be placed on the table.

It was an easy task, once it was properly restrained, to open its brain-case and carefully separate the components. It was just as easy to run a quick diagnostic via the computer.

It was also an easy task to figure out what was wrong.

Mariah sat back. Her hands rested on the table. Her eyes were dull.

"I can't fix it," she said simply.

Ahera watched. The sight of the harmless, gentle and endearingly annoying robot thrashing like a crazed animal wrenched at his heart. He simply hovered at her side, waiting, until she delivered the news. His heart sank. "A-are you sure? Vhat has happened?"

There was raw anxiety in his voice as he looked down at the child.

Mariah closed her eyes. "It's—see." She stood up walked to the computer, and opened the programming file.

"It's nothing. Completely nothing. Gobbledegook. It's not fixable." Her voice broke, and she pressed a hand to her chest with a wince. "The—the programming... just _look _at it!" She gestured. "Not even you could fix it, Overseer. I-It's dead. Worse than dead."

Ahera followed her, peering at the screen, as if he could make some sense of it, but Mariah knew her stuff. Any semblance of the intelligence that had once rested there was gone. Even if they repaired it, it wouldn't be the same creature that had scuttled into his room for the past few days.

Ahera lowered his head. He hadn't realized how attached he'd gotten to it. It had been a person to him. His time with the other AIs had changed him—his time with the Overseer had changed him, and now he'd lost a child. Again. 

He put his hands on Mariah's shoulders, still standing behind her. He didn't expect it to hurt this much. He couldn't have anticipated how deeply the loss cut him, but he had to be strong, because Mariah needed him now. "I'm so sorry." He was not used to hiding his emotions, and perhaps that was a good thing, because his own anguish came through clear.

Mariah's shoulders were shaking.

Tad and Butler took that moment to arrive. They had been on the outside of the _Traverse Traveller_'s hull, so they had no idea what was going on.

Trevor wirelessly filled them in (gave them the data) and Mariah walked back to the table where the geth was holding her flailing child.

"I should shut it down," she said quietly.

Butler ran over to her and leapt aboard her shoulders, its tail curling around her arm. It said nothing. Tad pressed against her legs.

Ahera simply stood there, his fingers gentle, but firm, on her shoulders. The Overseer twisted its head around to watch her. Ahera took a deep breath and asked, "Mariah, do you vant me to do it?"

"No," Mariah whispered.

She sat down. Took out a small pair of what looked like clippers. She reached in.

And, with a single snip, killed her child.

The machine went limp. All light left its eyes. Mariah stared blankly down at it, for once still, for once not working, and Butler curled its tail to touch her cheek.

Ahera moved with her, released her shoulders as she sat and as she leaned forward. He determinedly kept his eyes on her movements, right until the very end. The Overseer pulled back, now that the machine was no longer a threat, and looked to her.

Ahera silently placed his hand on her upper arm, offering whatever comfort his presence could give her. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, softly, pushing the pain away. He could grieve—and he was still a little shocked to realize that he would—later, when she didn't need him.

Mariah was quiet for almost five minutes. Then slowly she began to dismantle the robot.

"Back to work," she whispered.

Ahera paused, uncertain. He couldn't tell if she was working to make herself to forget, or if her disorder was wrenching her mind away from the pain. His fingers tightened into a slight squeeze, and he said, simply, "If you need me, Mariah…"

"Then I will call for you."

She turned her head slightly. "I apologize, Overseer, for getting angry at you."

"No apology is necessary." The Overseer turned and walked out.

Ahera remained for a few moments longer. He didn't want to leave her alone, but he simply didn't know how to deal with Mariah. He couldn't tell if she was trying to protect herself or she was simply succumbing to the grip of her disease. In the end, he decided the best thing to do would be to obey her. "Okay."

He walked back to his room slowly, in a daze. Old, old wounds had been reopened by all of this. The child had been so innocent, so curious. Each step seemed to ratchet the intensity up a bit. Her child. She'd lost her child… Ahera knew how acutely that hurt. He knew how much it could destroy you.

He went into his room and sat on the edge of his bed. He hung his head. It welled up and he sobbed suddenly, the strength fleeing him and leaving him limp and helpless, grieving for _her _all over again, and grieving for the tiny life that had hardly had a chance to even be.

It was very quiet the rest of the day. The robots allowed their mother to stay up longer than usual, but eventually Tad fetched Ahera and they put her to bed.

She could not sleep. After Ahera had gone, she tossed and turned, and finally got up to go back to her workshop.

"Mother, please go back to bed," Butler said, reclaiming his perch on her shoulders.

"I can't. Not now."

She stepped out into the hall, her bare feet whispering on the metal floor. It was soon drowned out by Trevor's clanking.

"Just let me work."

The Overseer wasted no time. "You are scheduled to be asleep. Why are you awake?"

"Can't sleep." She continued on, finally stepping into her workshop. "Don't want to sleep. And if I'm awake... I can't not work. Please... don't stop me."

"You need to sleep. We would like to be as obliging as possible, but we cannot allow you to do yourself harm. If you do not sleep, we will force you to, either through Ahera'Lorrz's intervention, or by sedation."

"Please don't," Mariah murmured. "I'm not going to hurt myself by pulling an all-nighter. I've done it before..."

The Overseer considered.

"One night." It said. "And you will rest in the afternoon, and resume your sleep schedule tomorrow. Do you acknowledge?"

"Yes. Okay."

She sat down.

The process was slow, but she began to build another AI. When Ahera got up, she was still there. There was some arguing (which was quieted with finality by the Overseer) and some irritation on her part when Ahera found out her ribs were cracked. He gave her medigel, much to her annoyance.

She had to be ushered to sleep that afternoon, but it wasn't too hard. She _was _exhausted at that point.

By the third day she was back to her usual self, which meant she was over the incident (doubtful) or she had put it away in the back of her mind.

She built two more AIs.

"Mother," Butler said at one point.

"Yes, Butler."

"Our time is almost up. We have one week left."

"Oh," she replied quietly, and her face saddened. "That's too bad. I like it here."

"Would you like us to start packing?"

"Yes."

"Very well." They got to work.

"How goes your experiment?" Mariah asked.

"There are still questions yet unanswered, though we have seen much evidence for ourselves. Your AIs behave erratically because they are imperfectly made. This explains much of their nature. We understand the bond between you and your creations. It is sentimentality. We do not understand the bond between your creations and creator Ahera'Lorrz, because past action dictates that quarian-creators are not sentimental about their creations."

The Overseer went on, "We have seen him bond with one of your creations rapidly, and grieve openly for it when it was destroyed. We do not understand why such feelings were not extended to the geth before the Morning War. This is, however, an isolated case. We have been conferring with the geth. We have reached a consensus."

The Overseer was sure that it was only speaking to Mariah, and that Ahera was off doing something on his own, far away from the speakers it was using. "Under normal circumstances, we would determine that there was nothing more we could learn from this experiment. However… we have noticed a change in attitude between ourselves and Ahera'Lorrz. It is small, but it merits further study. If you would like, you may stay one more full month, but beyond that we must ask you to leave."

Mariah listened silently, and her robots ceased packing, awaiting her response. One of the new AIs scampered up to leap on her lap, and she stroked its back. It had reached the mark where it had begun to speak, but was not as extremely annoyingly curious in that it asked dozens of questions. It also had no interest in Ahera, though stuck close to Mariah.

"Yes," she said finally. "I will have to tell Ahera. Thank you."

Ahera took the news rather well. He shrugged and said, "Vell, zhis is a good place for you. For all of us, I sink—at least for now."

The month went by quickly. Ahera finished up the project he had been working on. The little core was stored to capacity, even though there were so many more things he wanted to preserve, he accepted what he could get and safely tucked it away. When the Overseer delivered the news of the food shipment, he was very verbally overjoyed.

It had been so long since he'd experienced the simple kinesthetic joy of chewing his own food, of reveling in the pleasure of different tastes and textures. To him, there was nothing more exquisite or decadent. He was grateful for this, and he let the geth know.

The food had been carefully prepared, but it was still turian cuisine, and the Overseer supplied some herbal pills for Ahera to take along with them to ensure his system didn't kick the stuff back. This gave his immune system a little boost and also let him bathe regularly.

For once in his life, he was clean, and well-fed, and happy. He sighed. He knew it wouldn't last. 

He resumed his routine with Mariah and the AIs. He was a little disappointed at how it ignored him, but outwardly just shrugged it off. It was for the best, he decided.


	14. Chapter 14

At the end of the month, the Overseer found that Ahera was civil with it, but nothing more. No more data could be gleaned from this quarian, or the human woman he accompanied. The experiment was over.

Ahera couldn't be too disappointed, because Mariah built four more AIs within that month, and instructed Tad and Butler to keep eyes on them while they were growing to avoid a repeat of last time.

Two of them were quite normal as her robots went, and though they had no names yet. The final body for one of them was a very large centipede, and the other had the shape of a tapir.

The other two, however...

One of them was borderline antisocial. It went far and wide as it searched the station, angry and suspicious and not even caring about its mother.

The other robots viewed it with suspicion. Mariah was quietly sad, but she had no qualms about letting her children behave the way they wanted unless they hurt anyone. She left it to its own devices, and though it had no qualms against her, it viewed her as merely an organic. A useful one, but an organic all the same.

Mariah accepted this.

At one point, it hopped onto her table and flatly asked her to create it a new body. She silently nodded and got to work, and afterwards it was very pleased.

It did not like the Overseer and asked to leave the station. Mariah patiently told it that it would have to wait until they all left, and that it could leave at any time when that happened. It agreed.

The other one, a spider that looked remarkably like Butler had at first, followed Ahera relentlessly around. It was the newest addition and had not learned to speak yet, but had taken an immediate liking to the quarian.

The request to leave came very quickly and abruptly. One morning they woke, and the speakers simply said, "We have packed your ship with provisions and refueled in it thanks for your participation. You have eight hours to load what supplies you need onto the vessel. If you require more time, it will be granted within reason. You are dismissed."

And that was that.

Ahera had already packed his belongings. Every single one of them fitted into a single duffel bag―upon which rode his new friend. He was puzzled by its curious attachment to him, and did his best to keep his own feelings reserved, though he might as well have just held his breath. He was getting attached.

He loaded his own belongings up quickly, shaking his head at the alien-yet-familiar interior of his old room. He then trotted to find Mariah. "Need any help moving anysing out?"

"No," she muttered. She had requested a syringe of sedative from the Overseer to assist her with moving, and was studying it with intense concentration. Around her, her robots were helping to pack, even the antisocial one.

She sighed. "I hate doing this."

"Would you rather take your medicine, Mother?" Trevor asked. It was standing behind her, ready to transport her into the vessel.

"No, no, that won't do. It's too precious to waste right now," she replied.

"Very well."

The last supplies were removed from the station. Mariah was pacing, unable to keep still, and grinned slightly at Ahera. "Looks like you've gained a little minion, Ahera."

"Minion," the robot parroted back, the first time it had spoken.

Mariah smiled, looked up, and said sincerely, "Thank you for everything, Overseer. Relay my thanks to the rest of the geth, too, for letting us stay."

She stabbed her neck with the needle, wincing irritably.

"Acknowledged." Was the Overseer's final goodbye. 

Ahera stuck around anyway, and found ways to help, despite her insistence that she didn't need any. He was especially wary of the standoffish AI, and usually had nothing to do with it. He helped Mariah carry the heavier pieces of equipment, when Trevor wasn't around.

It wasn't long before they were back in their ship. "Go lie down. I'll take us out of here. Vhere should ve go? Any destination in mind?"

"Negative," the speakers said. "I have control of the ship." It was Tad.

"Oh. Vell, you'll be better at it zhan I am. Heh, very vell, Tad."

Trevor carried Mariah to her old quarters and lay her down. The _Traverse Traveller _disengaged.

Butler was lying with Mariah. Tad filled the quarian in. "I have planned a course to Omega. It is the safest place to be, and we will make definite plans there."

It took a few hours to reach the Mass Relay. They had long since shed their geth escort, as the geth had retreated back into their space, satisfied they were gone.

"Please prepare for the jump," Tad said, though the ship would not register such a thing.

Someone beat them to it, however.

Cerberus had been waiting for them. They knew where the ship had gone, and they knew that that was geth space. However, scans had revealed that they had not been destroyed, which meant they had outrun or otherwise escaped the geth (or so they thought). They had dropped sensor buoys around the Relay. 

So when the ship approached the Mass Relay, it suddenly activated.

Cerberus had been waiting, all this time, on the other side. And now, they had jumped. Three vessels appeared in front of the _Traverse Traveller_.

"Warning. Hostiles incoming."

Ahera had taken a moment to partially unpack his things. He only briefly considered his plans. He was going to stay with Mariah, of course. Someone had to look after her. Aside from that, he… well. He was very fond of her, that much was for certain. He had been ruminating on these thoughts when the warning had come through.

He cursed colorfully in his native tongue. "How many? You have control of zhis vessel, Tad, zhere is not much I can do to help."

"I am merely informing you to make sure you are not startled by rocketfire. There are four. Please strap yourselves down."

Trevor placed a gentle hand on Mariah, keeping her firmly down, and the robot with Ahera leapt to his chest, clinging to him for whatever reason.

"Hostiles incoming," it said.

The ship shook from a shot to the engines. The shields held.

Tad ignored all hails from the other ships―probably all "give up you're surrounded" crap―and abruptly dropped under them, seeking to somehow get past them and hit the Mass Relay. They had made upgrades to the ship, but nothing that would combat four ships intent on capturing them alive.

"Please make sure you are strapped in," Tad said again, and the ship bucked.

Ahera was startled to find the creature leaping to him for comfort, and only had time to say "Ah," before he hopped onto his bunk and pulled at the emergency brace-straps set into the wall. He buckled down and pulled the AI off his chest, setting it on the bed beside him. "Safer zhere," he assured it, "So you don't get tossed about zhe room."

He hated being helpless like this, but since he'd been exiled, it was somewhat familiar to him.

"Strap yourself in," the robot said, clinging to the mattress. It did not feel the need for comfort, so why it had jumped to him was a mystery.

The _Traverse Traveller _attacked, hitting the shields of the foremost ship. Their shields held.

"Warning. Shields down to eighty-four percent."

Shudder.

"Warning. Shields down to sixty-nine percent."

"Warning," Ahera's robot said. "Warning! Warning! Warning!"

"Hey, hey, calm down, ve'll be all right. Tad's smarter zhan all of these bosh'tets put togezzer." It helped to have another life to look out for beside his own. He wanted desperately to find Mariah, to see if she was okay, to comfort her if need be―but he knew he couldn't.

The only thing he could do was hold on for the ride. "He'll take care of us."

Tad was a master at the ship. It pulled tricks no organic could, juggled the exchange of power between weapons, life support and shields, and in the end destroyed one of their ships.

Cerberus doubled back full-force. They were mad now.

"We will be unable to reach the Mass Relay," Tad said. "We must make a break for the next one."

The ship gained speed as it raced away. It was not deeper into geth space, but skirted the boundries of the Veil, desperately trying to find a way out.

Ahera waited anxiously. There must be something he could do. Anything!

But there wasn't, and there was nobody else out there to help them. There was only Cerberus. Ahera had no allies, nobody he could call upon, and nothing that could help Tad. He wracked his brains for tricks, but none came to mind. Tad knew their vessel's capabilities. It would use them to their maximum potential.

"Look, I need to check on your mozzer. I'll be okay. Stay here, all right? Stay on zhis bed. I von't be gone long." He carefully wriggled out of the straps, but gently nudged Minion under one of them, pointing at it, before he turned and sprinted out of his room to Mariah's. He still remembered the layout of the ship.

Once, the ship shuddered, and Ahera nearly fell clean over, but he had just enough of a sense of balance to merely stumble and keep going. He was fully integrated with his new leg. That was good. He skidded through the workshop, down the hall, and into Mariah's room. "Mariah! Are you okay?"

Mariah was hanging on for dear life to Trevor. Her face was drawn and pale. Her eyes were closed, and she was shaking. She was terrified. Not only for herself―she wouldn't go with those bastards if they caught her―but for her machines, and Ahera. Her children would give their lives for her, and Ahera didn't deserve to die.

The need to work was drowned out in her fear.

"I won't go with them," she choked.

When Ahera saw her, his heart wrenched. He darted across the room and touched her shoulder. "I von't let them take you. No matter vhat. I'll stay vis you―but first I have to―I'll be right back!"

He hated leaving her alone like that, but he couldn't leave Minion. He raced back to his quarters and hurriedly scooped up the little machine, transferring it to his shoulder and ordering it to hang on.

Then it was another crazy race back to Mariah. He skidded into the room and hurried to her side, kneeling and gently nudging Minion to her shoulder. "Your mozzer needs you now," he told it, and slid one arm around her, pushing his way past Trevor, if he needed to. He pulled Mariah to his side.

He'd never felt more protective of her than that moment. He'd clung to her for so long out of desperation, but she'd never really, truly needed him. He didn't want to fail her. "It's going to be all vight."

Mariah was crying. She buried her face in Ahera's arm, hugging him tightly to herself.

"Mother?" the robot said.

"I won't go with them."

Trevor curled its giant body around them all, anchoring them securely to the floor. "We will fight to the death for you, Mother," it boomed. "They will die."

A sudden horrid, wrenching jerk of the ship moved even Trevor, and they suddenly lost speed, alarms blaring throughout the ship.

"We are caught," Tad said simply.

The robots rushed to the airlock. Trevor pulled away and stood. "I must go," it said, and raced out, leaving the two organics and the small robot there.

Minion scrambled over Ahera's shoulder, following.

"No!" Mariah cried. It stopped.

Every sob, ever tear, ripped at Ahera in a way he hadn't though possible. The sight of her so scared, so alone was painful to endure, and in the wake of that pain came anger. He simply held her, not knowing what to say until…

Trevor and Minion left them. Ahera watched them. "Mariah, I need you to stay here," he said levelly. He turned to her. She was just to make his eyes out behind his visor, pale and blinking. "I don't vant to leave you, but zhey vill need help. Zhey are strong, and powerful, but I have a little experience. I can help."

He gently released her. "Just stay. Stay, and ve vill fight zhem off." He stood, looking to Minion. "You stay, as vell. Look after her. I have to help.

"I vill be back for bozz of you!" He turned and ran after the robots, his Omni-tool flaring to life against his arm. He couldn't hope to actually keep up with Trevor, so he just used the ship to check his coordinates.

The geth rarely ventured beyond the Perseus Veil. When they did, it usually went undetected, on clandestine missions that only the synthetics knew the purpose of.

Ahera didn't make it very far before the situation exploded―literally.

He had covered about half of the distance between Mariah's room and the loading bay―where they were most likely to be boarded, when the ship's sensors picked up something very disturbing. One moment, a Cerberus ship had been closing on them. The next, it was nearly annihilated, its signal weak, its hull breached, and before it could return fire, it was destroyed.

The second ship had much more time to react, relative to the first, but the vessel bearing down on it reacted faster still. Two geth cruisers had appeared out of seemingly nowhere. In the heat of the hunt, nobody had bothered to register their arrival. The second ship managed to score two shots to the geth's shields before it, too, was permanently disabled.

There was a third Cerberus vessel, which fled. The geth did not pursue. They did not hail Mariah's vessel. They simply prowled the edge of the Veil. They left the wreckage of the two ships behind, uninterested in salvage. Their silence indicated that what had transpired was something of an unofficial favor.

All of this activity was not unnoticed by Tad. In the ship, the fighters were unaware of all that had happened, and had to be informed.

Tad had been utterly flabbergasted, if a robot could be, and for a moment did not speak at all. Then the speakers came alive. "All units, stand down. The ships have been destroyed." It paused before clarifying, "The geth have destroyed them for us."

In the loading bay, there was a brief silence. Then all the robots dispersed calmly, as if nothing had happened at all.

Tad turned their ship around and headed back towards the Mass Relay. The other ship had gone through already, doubtlessly spewing tales of how their quarry had been protected by geth of all things. The sensor buoys had been destroyed.

Without contacting the geth―likely they knew how grateful they were―the ship entered.

Mariah, white-faced, closed her eyes. That was it? The geth had―that was _it_?

Ahera skidded to a stop, and stood there for a moment. That one moment turned into a handful of long ones, as the robots walked around him to head back to their parts of the ship. The geth had saved them. He owed his life to the geth.

He shook his head. He was pretty surprised by that, but he was even more surprised by how easily he accepted it. He turned and began to run again, not stopping until he had reached Mariah's quarters.

"Did you hear? They… Keelah, of all _things!"_ He walked over to her and knelt in front of her. Gently, he curled his two fingers under her chin and lifted it. "Are you okay?"

Mariah's pale, tear-streaked face stared blankly up at him. She smiled bleakly. "I told you they weren't bad," she croaked, then suddenly grabbed him in a hug, shaking at their close call.

"Weren't bad," Minion chirped, climbing up to Ahera. In a strangely affectionate gesture, it huddled against his neck, two legs resting on Mariah's shoulder.

Ahera didn't immediately respond, startled by the gesture, but the flood of warmth that surged through him prompted him to wrap his arms around her, and then he returned the embrace fiercely, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He could almost smell the musty scent of her hair through his air filter―or was he imagining it?

She so rarely let him hold her. He felt that if he could just do this, every once in a while, hold her close and embrace her and feel her muffled heartbeat through his suit, then he could endure anything. Anything in between, if he just got to hold her when all the chaos had died down. Keelah, he had it bad, didn't he?

The sudden skittering sensation of Minion moving to his shoulder caused him to open his eyes, and when he felt the little robot snuggling up over them, he smiled. This was not how he'd pictured his life turning out, shared with a bizarre woman and her bizarre children. He hunched his shoulder so that the side of his helmet gently bumped against the top of Minion's carapace .

He hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but he was glad it had.

It did not take long to get to Omega.

They took a vacation, simply being with each other (or as much as Mariah could, working), and repaired their ship. Mariah even took one of her medicine and they had a little party (Ahera taught her that dance he wanted to) and invited the asari doctor to join.

The antisocial robot took off as soon as they arrived to Omega, disappearing within the crowds. It was neither seen nor heard of again.

Minion learned how to speak properly, and stubbornly hung onto Ahera. Its personality came in much more quickly than the others' had, which may have been a side effect of being around the quarian so much. It was soon ready for a new body, and Mariah got to work on it. In a rare gesture of magnamity, she allowed Ahera and Minion to make specifications about how the body should look like.

It was not quite halfway done when Butler appeared at Ahera's quarters. "Mother wishes to speak with you," it said.

Ahera never thought he'd be happy to see Omega, but the days following their arrival were the happiest he'd experienced since he'd left the Flotilla. He was healthy, he was relaxed, and he was safe. He was surrounded by friendly, if odd, company.

It had been so long since he'd felt so welcome. He was a part of a family now. It was not quite like being part of the Flotilla, but he wasn't alone. For the first time in so long, he wasn't alone.

The doctor had been unable to make their evening of fun―she had actually only recently relocated to the Citadel, but her daughter was taking up her duties at the clinic. She was polite, but reserved, clearly unsure of the both of them. It would take time to earn her trust.

He'd been floored when Mariah took one of her precious pills just to spend an evening with him. Well, him and her extended mechanical family, but she's spent a lot of it with him. He had enjoyed it immensely.

She had been so kind to him, and she'd even let him teach her that dance! He's agonized over what music to play―he didn't want to come on too strong, but he wanted this to be a night to remember. In the end, he'd chosen a human song.

It was sprightly, rather than slow, but still beautiful. It was called "O Sole Mio." The song had not been composed for such a dance, but Ahera got creative with it, and made it work.

And that night, after he'd dipped her with expert ease at the conclusion of the song (despite his modest denials, Ahera was quite a good dancer), when he had retreated to his room, leaning against the place where his mattress met the wall, he thought, _I might love her. I might really love that woman. _

Ahera was growing more fond of little Minion. He had been unconsciously holding back, worried that something would happen to the little robot, and that he's lose it, too. The happy air of their vacation time had dissipated the last of those fears.

His first instinct had been to ask Minion, "Vell, vhat do _you _vant to look like?" And they'd gone from there. He'd shown the robot many examples of fauna found commonly on Rannoch―or old pictures of them, since no quarian had been there in several hundred years.

He was pouring over one such design when Butler entered. "Mm? Of course," he stood and gestured for the small machine to lead the way. As they approached the workshop, he asked brightly, "You vanted to see me, Mariah?"

Mariah had made a decision.

She had made it while they had been celebrating, when she had been... sane... enough to realize this was what had to be done. When the medicine wore off and she had been forced to return to her workshop, she had mulled over the decision for two full days. It was a painful decision.

To see him, almost prancing in, and to hear the brightness in his voice, almost broke her decision. She almost didn't tell him. She looked up at him, her face set and almost sad, and she carefully and deliberately put her hands on the table, giving him her full attention.

"Sit," she said quietly.

He hesitated, head tilted. She had only the subtle cues of his body to read his mood, and his good humor had almost immediately become concern. "Is everysing okay? Vhat's wrong?"

He did sit, of course. He might not have been the same pitiful creature he'd let himself become at the beginning of their journey, but he was still the submissive force of their relationship, and when she told him to do something, he obeyed.

Mariah's feverish OCD was nearly burning her alive. She had only a little while before she had to continue working. "You are very fond of me," she said flatly. "And I am very fond of you." Her tone did not portray affection, but that was merely a side effect of the disease.

She took a deep breath. "That is not healthy on your part."

He was a little confused by the dead tone of her voice when she admitted that she liked him―his heart skipped a beat and he swallowed thickly, daring to hope―but her next words halted his rising emotions and just left him feeling strange and confused. "I don't… I don't understand. Vhat do you mean?"

"I am diseased. I am likely―no, I _will _begin self-augmentation, far beyond mere hands." She displayed them. "I am incapable of showing you affection. You will be miserable. Hear me out." She waved a hand, almost got back to work, then took another deep breath and placed it flat against the table. "My memory is going and some day I will no longer remember you, unless I can augment my brain. I am simply not capable of giving you what you need as a person."

Butler curled itself around her shoulders, tail absently flicking like a rather long cat's.

"This is the final stop for us, as a... couple. I am leaving. You are not coming with me."

Ahera said nothing. He stared at her. After a moment, he began weakly, "But I…" and then trailed off.

Alone? He would have to leave her―to leave this? He swallowed, trying desperately to cling to logic. What she was doing did make sense.

The very fact that she was putting aside whatever feelings she might have had for him showed that she did care. She was pushing him away from her before it became too late to leave. She wanted him to have a better chance. Ahera wasn't able to come to that conclusion. He was lost in the roaring tide of pain and loss that was rising in him.

He trembled. "Mariah, I…. I can't. I can't live alone. Not again. Please," he whispered, "Please, I don't care, you never have to look at me again, please, just don't leave me." His voice shook. "Just please don't leave me…"

"You're not living alone," she replied, as gently as she could. "Minion is going with you. Ahera, don't... please don't. You know this is the right thing to do. You can't be... be..." Fuck. Her mind was lost in a roaring sea that was her compulsion, and she began calculating how hot a very fast-moving AI would become. It helped ease her mind a bit. "You can't be... be attached to me like this. You can't..."

"What Mother is trying to say," Butler said quietly, "is that your dependency on her is unhealthy."

"Yes. Thank you. Ahera, think about a future with me would be. You would be tormented. You would be shunned by me. You would never, ever be happy."

"I could learn," he said softly, desperation evident in his voice. "It would be bezzer. It would be bezzer than being alone again." He was gripping the edges of his chair, hunched and shaking. Maybe he was sick. Maybe all of these years living like that had warped him.

But Ahera's life, thus far, had just been cycles of pain, disappointment, and loss. Everyone he'd ever cared about was gone, and now just when he finally began to open his heart to someone new, she was pushing him away, too…

"Even if I could just be near you, it vould―I-I vould―please." It was all he could say. There was no reason for him to stay, only that he desperately wanted to, and he hung his head, whispering one last time, _"Please."_

"The only reason I am doing this is because I love you, Ahera."

It was the only thing she could say.

He looked up, his brow furrowed in the deepest confusion and his eyes wide under her visor. Her words tore at him. Those should have been words that filled him with joy, but instead they ripped him down, down, tightened his throat until he was unable to speak. If he'd been more assertive, maybe he would have fought harder.

But in the end even though he desperately wanted to be with her, no matter what―even if she only glanced at him once a _year,_ even if she coldly ignored him, he would have gladly stayed with her―Ahera just submitted to her will, as he had done since he had grown attached to her.

He spoke softly, dully, his voice devoid of pain, but also devoid of vitality. "Vhen should I be gone?"

"As soon as Minion's brain and body are done. The brain will be finished tomorrow, and I expect to be done with her body two days after that. Ahera, please don't pine after me. I don't know when... when I'll... shit, when I'll... die. I don't know when I'll go completely mad. This is for the best."

She bent her head to her work, once more letting it wipe away all traces of her emotion, letting it be her solace. Work was comforting and secure; she didn't have to think about those troubling emotions that made her _think_, think of what could have been, _should _have been, would have if she didn't have this damn disease.

Ahera did not reply. He didn't have the strength left for words. He nodded and stood, walking calmly back to his room. He sat on the edge of his bed and simply stared blankly at the wall. White static filled his head. He numbly began to pack his belongings.

Over the course of the next few days, he simply floated in that calm, dark void, moving mechanically and dumbly. He didn't speak. He couldn't eat, but he forced himself to drink water. It was… he was… it was as if his brain couldn't comprehend that this was really happening. Not again. Please not again, he didn't want to be alone…

He didn't leave his room unless called for, and did not speak unless spoken to. He just waited for the inevitable.

"Ahera?"

It was Minion. The robot trotted towards him, sat down before him, and gently nudged its muzzle under one of his hands. "Ahera?"

It was small and streamlined, much like Butler's. It had the body of a rat, which was similar to one of the diagrams Ahera had given it, and it had stiff sensory cords jutting up from its back. Its long tail whisked back and forth as Minion clicked its jaws uncertainly. Its voice was gentle and female and had the unnerving similarity to Mariah's own.

Mariah had done this without realizing it.

"Yes." Ahera replied hoarsely. It was an acknowledgement, and nothing more. Yes, he was Ahera. He looked up a little, and opened his fingers to gently touch the sensory cords on the little robot's back, but he didn't say anything else.

"Are you ready?" It asked. "We need to go. I can carry your smaller bag, if you want."

It desperately wanted to please him. He looked so alone, so tormented; the evidence was in his body language... it reared up and touched its metal muzzle to his visor. "Ahera?"

"Oh. Now?" He looked back and forth, blinking disconnectedly. "Okay." He began to gather his things, and didn't even answer the little robot's question. He hadn't seemed to hear it.

The soft clink of the Minion's muzzle against his helmet drew his attention, and he reached up to affectionately stroke it again. "Yes? Vhat is it, Minion?"

"Are you well? You do not seem yourself," Minion replied. "I... dislike... seeing you upset."

"I am not, no. I… I am sorry." He slung his bag over his shoulder. "I feel…" he stared blankly ahead, losing his train of thought and closing his eyes. He couldn't explain this to Minion. The little robot cared, but it wouldn't understand. "Perhaps vhen you are older."

He knelt and extended his arm for the robot to scurry up. "You should ride in my bag. Best to keep you hidden."

"Very well, Ahera." It was a little big, about the size of Butler, but managed to cram itself in the small space. It did not breathe nor could get uncomfortable, so it went uncomplainingly.

Butler was in the doorway as they made to leave. "Mr. Ahera," it said, tilting its head.

For a moment it was silent. Then, "I will miss you."

Ahera made sure that Minion was properly situated, and began his exit. The sight of Butler on the floor in front of him startled him a little, and seemed to momentarily shock him out of his haze, and those four words finished him.

He knelt, a soft sob escaping his throat, and he scooped Butler up, somehow bundling the cat-sized robot against his chest. "You too. You too, Butler. I had never known I could care for a synzetic. Not before you. Not before you," he was shaking violently, his voice choked with emotion.

"Keelah se'lai," he said as he released him. "It is a blessing among my people." He knew Mariah would not come to say goodbye to him. "Tell her it for me? Anytime you sink she will listen. Keelah se'lai. Take care of her. Take of of yourself." He reached down to stroke Butler's back one last time.

"I will," Butler said, and strained to put as much sincereity behind its words as possible. "In all three accounts." It bumped its head under his chin and settled gracefully back onto the floor.

"Keelah se'lai, Mr. Ahera."

He nodded and walked on until he came to the hatch. He looked at the ground. The floor had been scrubbed clean of his blood, but he remembered lying there at the beginning of all of this, wracked with a pain so intense he hadn't thought he could feel anything like it again. He'd been wrong.

Ahera'Lorrz vas Nedas nar Tasi―Ahera, crew of nowhere, child of no-one―left the ship and stepped onto the cold grimy pavement of Omega. He looked back over his shoulder one more time before he hung his head and vanished into the red haze of the city, a broken man.


End file.
